


The Doctor, The Detective & A Behaviorist:         A Sherlock One-Shot Collection

by MizUndahStood



Series: The Doctor, The Detective, & A Behaviorist [1]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch -Fandom, Martin Freeman - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Baker Street, 221C Baker Street, Asexual Sherlock, Colleagues - Freeform, Cooking, Dancing, F/M, Female Character of Color, Friendship/Love, Intrigue, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Triangle, Male-Female Friendship, My First Work in This Fandom, Mycroft's Meddling, Not Beta Read, Not Britpicked, One Shot Collection, Psychology, Rating May Change, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Tags May Change, True to Character(mostly) But Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:19:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 49,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizUndahStood/pseuds/MizUndahStood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the help of her boss Cal Lightman, and his erstwhile frenemy Mycroft Holmes, Dr. Anna Eberhardt PhD wrangles a Post-Doc fellowship at University College London<br/>Her skill set reading micro-expressions and gestural affects are well respected, and her quirky thesis on smell and sense memory has the attention of Mycroft. Her Post-Doc work in behavioral psychology is somewhat mundane, but compliments the needs of the world's only Consulting Detective - her unofficially official fellowship.  </p><p>Through the graces of Mrs Hudson, and the gravitas of Mycroft, 221C has been refurbished for Anna's use as a place to live and work. Convenient for both Holmes brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cover Art - The Doctor, The Detective & A Behaviorist: A Sherlock One-Shot Collection

**Author's Note:**

> Anna's Backstory:
> 
> “Dance Me Into Love”  
> http://archiveofourown.org/series/153830

  
[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/BC80987D-9510-41C4-87EE-D33BA34AF68B.png_zpsdnk1eiyh.jpeg.html)


	2. Tea and Enmity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock shares a cuppa with his new neighbor and helpmate, Dr Anna Eberhardt.

Mrs Hudson raps gingerly on the door of 221c before descending the stairs. She finds Anna with her back to the stairs wearing headphones, poring over paperwork. 

"Anna? Anna dear..." Mrs. Hudson taps Anna on the shoulder to get her attention.

"How are you Mrs Hudson? Something I can help you with?"  
"No dear, came to see how you're getting on. Off to Tesco. Need anything?" chirps Mrs. Hudson.

"Thank you for thinking of me. I've done my shopping already... online. Added a few treats for you. If you don't have any plans, I'd love to cook dinner for you tonight. I'll have all the ingredients needed to prepare curried prawns with pigeon peas and rice." Anna beams.

"You're such a lovely cook, dear. It's nice having another girl around. Sort of balances things out a bit." Mrs Hudson happily sighs.

"Can anything really balance out the ever present Sherlock Holmes?" Anna wonders aloud.

"MRS HUD-SON!" Bellows Sherlock from the doorway of 221c. He stomps down the stairs in trousers, shirt, and dressing gown. 

"To wit..." Anna points at Sherlock, and both women giggle.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Doctor Eberhardt?" Sherlock narrows his eyes and crinkles the top of his nose. Anna mimics his dour expression and chuckles.

"Oh Sherlock! It's time for your afternoon tea... isn't it?" 

"Yes. And you might have been more mindful had you not been pointlessly prattling on and on about God knows what with our newest resident." He huffs, and folds his arms defensively across his chest. 

"I'll get started with my mise en place so that we can have dinner at seven-ish?" Anna confirms.  
"Sounds lovely. Looking forward to it. What a treat!" Mrs Hudson smiles at Anna before she turns to leave, and Sherlock chases after her.

"What about my tea? Mrs Hud-SON!" Sherlock shouts up the stairs.  
"You'll figure out something, won't you? Off out! Spot of marketing to do." Mrs. Hudson closes Anna's door behind her causing Sherlock to scoff derisively as he turns toward the behaviorist. 

"Dial it down, Curly Fu..." she chortles.  
"Wot! Curly... What?!" asks Sherlock.  
"Yep. Curly Fu." Anna says, popping the "P" sound.  


Anna gestures toward a chair, cordially offering Sherlock a seat. Arms still folded, he stomps over to a chair and flops down, crossing his legs away from her. 

"That's what they call you in Asia. You _do_ have an international reputation." She smiles.  
"So it seems." He mutters. "Right. Nice chatting to you but, I'm in desperate need of tea and a biscuit." He prepares to stand, but Anna walks around behind him and urges him back into his seat.

"Stay and chat, Sherlock. I'll make tea for you." she offers.  
"You're certainly welcomed to try." he smirks.  
"And so I will. How about something a little different? You're an Earl Grey man, but I really enjoy Constant Comment."

Sherlock quirks a brow and leans back. He steeples his fingers and taps his forefingers together. 

"Lighten up. I have cookies." Anna flits across the room, neatly plates a few homemade teabag cookies for the persnickety detective and places them graciously before him on the coffee table. Fascinated by the treats, he plucks one from the plate by its string, inspecting it as he holds it in the air while it spins around his slender fingers. 

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2014-12/320BD246-53AC-40B0-B5E3-6B77DA08FF0B_zpsoxf8tpnu.png.html)

Anna watches him and chuckles to herself as she prepares a pot of tea. While it steeps, she gathers two napkins, cups, saucers, spoons and a bowl of Demerara sugar. She places the objects on a tray with the teapot and a tiny container of fresh cream. She glides confidently into the living room and sets down the assemblage with a flourish. 

She sits on the end of her sofa nearest Sherlock, and pours him a cup of tea. "Sugar?" she asks.  
"Yes, please."  
"You might take a small sip before adding sugar. This tea is less astringent than you're used to, but much spicier" she recommends.

He lifts the cup to his nose, and takes a loud sniff, accidentally snorting some of the hot liquid into his nostrils. Barely able to stifle a giggle, Anna offers him a napkin, which he accepts.  
Sherlock places his cup on the tray and proceeds to scoop copious amounts of sugar into the hot liquid. He then drinks from the cup with an uncharacteristically loud slurp, quirks his chin and nods his approval.

"How is it?"  
"Surprisingly okay..." He raises a brow as he sips.  
"Try the cookie, Sherlock. Don't play with your food." she grins. 

He looks down at his hand, remembering the cookie twisted around his finger by its string. "Did you make these, Dr Eberhardt? When do you have time to bake?"

"Yes, I baked them. I find cooking somewhat meditative. You're a graduate chemist, I'm surprised that you aren't a Cordon Bleu level cook. I mean, it's mostly chemistry and physics."  
"Hmmm, I suppose I'd never considered it in that light. To me cooking just seems... boring." He shrugs. "Food is barely necessary, in my view. Menu planning, shopping, cooking? All pointless wastes time and space on my hard drive." he shrugs again, and takes another sip of tea.

"But Sherlock, we both know that the human brain is incredibly elastic. No one ever runs out of space." she firmly states. "There are so many principles and techniques in cooking - especially baking - that use the same concepts as chemistry. How could you not be in love with the idea of creating something as wonderful as a beautifully prepared tray of roasted veggies, a splendidly glorious Sunday roast, or take pride in a perfectly risen angel food cake?" 

Amazingly, Sherlock is finding merit in Anna's theory. Not that he'd admit it out loud. 

"You're extraordinary passionate about this, Doctor Eberhardt. How do you find the space on your hard drive to elevate something as pedestrian as preparing food?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that, Sherlock. How do you find the time to be a violin virtuoso? I've decided to integrate certain things into my life that give me joy. Those things that make my life feel purposeful are also things that make me happy. Tonight, I'll be cooking dinner for Mrs Hudson and myself. Knowing that she'll be pleased to share a meal with me gives me joy."

"Is that the secret, then? Aren't happiness, joy and caring superfluous, Doctor Eberhardt? What purpose does happiness serve, anyway?"

"Though you are loathe to admit it, you are capable of joy. And more than that, you do care. I've done my research, Sherlock. You are _not_ a sociopath. You fill your brain with The Work because it's easier to be a Consulting Detective than a man who has pain and love and loss, right? You've allowed yourself to sublimate your former substance abuse into activities that keep you from fully processing your feelings. Hell, if I'd survived some of the things you have, I'd be numb too."

"I'm not numb... Doctor. Eberhardt." he snorted.  
"How would you know?" she challenges.  


"Will you be sending me a bill for this session, doctor?"   
"Heavens no. I'll be forwarding my bill for services rendered directly to Mycroft." 

A smile lights Sherlock's face and both laugh out loud at the behaviorist's cheekiness.

"Have dinner with us, Sherlock. Even John wishes he could join us. He's asked me to set aside a portion for him to have when he gets home. It's curry... Don't you like curry?" 

"Well, I..."  
"C'mon. Your transport is due for a top-up." Anna smiles.  
"Will there be pudding?"  
"Only if you have a small something first. Please?..."

Sherlock huffs and folds his arms. He leans away from Anna, resting on one hip. 

"Oi! Don't you go pointing your arse at me, Mister. And besides, John asked me to keep an eye on you when he's not around. I don't enjoy babysitting any more than you enjoy feeling as if you're being kept under thumb."

"I'm not pointing my... arse... at you." He says as he sits upright.  
"Ahhh, but you were. That is a classic on the KMA continuum."

"K-M-A _continuum_ Doctor Eberhardt?" Sherlock crinkles his nose in a show of derision.  
"Yes. Kiss My Ass. K-M-A. Definitely a display of contempt. Sometimes your body language is as defensive as your verbiage is telling, Sherlock."

Sherlock pulls his knees up, wraps his arms around them and stares at the behaviorist blankly. 

"Don't retreat. Drink your tea, Sherlock. Jeebus Crust! How the hell did we get here? Let's start again at one. Dinner. What say you? Hmm?..."

"What might my participation entail?"  
"Help me cook. Or at least keep me company while I cook. You can observe and make suggestions. For _science _Sherlock!" she winks.__

"Cooking as science? An interesting notion, indeed." he surmises. "I'll give it my utmost..."  
"That's all I'm askin’" Anna smiles at Sherlock. The apples of her cheeks glowing as she sips. 

"Question? How did you come by some of the provisions for tonight's meal, Doctor Eberhardt? It was my impression that you're still unfamiliar with the city." 

"Some were gathered online, some I tucked into my checked luggage. Others were sourced with the help of Mrs Hudson, Mr Chatterjee or Mycroft."

"Mycroft?!" he sniffs indignantly.  
"Yeah, Mycroft! Can you imagine?..." She reaches across and places both hands on Sherlock's forearm as she speaks. 

"Mycroft and my boss Cal are connected by some odd intersecting secrecies we daren't mention. The only reason I have this fellowship is because the two of them thought it'd be good sport to put us in close proximity." she reveals

Sherlock leans in close as she continues, cleverly placing the tips of his index, second, and third fingers on one of her wrists below the thumb. She removes his hand and playfully admonishes him "Yeah, I see whatcha did there. Nice try, though..." 

"Ya know, I wouldn't be surprised if the two weren't wagering on whether you'll send me fleeing for higher ground, or if you'll begin to manifest aberrant behaviors to cope with my presence. I'm a stubborn woman, Sherlock. Being used as a source of amusement chaps my ass. _But_ , not enough to pass on an opportunity as extraordinary as this Post-Doc. That being said - few things give me greater pleasure than proving people wrong. Let's flip the script, Sherlock. We can have fun with this, don't you think?"

"I believe you have a point, Doctor Eber..."  
"You've gotta stop standing on ceremony and start calling me Anna."  
"Perhaps I should call you Andromeda? That is your given name, is it not?" He quirks a grin and winks.  
"Sure, if I can call you _William_..." 

 

"Ohhhh, this is going to be deliciously amusing. Yes, Anna... I accept your challenge!"  
"Cheers, Sherlock!"

The two raise their teacups and nod to cement their agreement. They share a devilish grin, and sip happily in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cooking and Chemistry:
> 
> http://lifehacker.com/how-to-improve-your-home-cooking-with-the-power-of-scie-511405909
> 
> http://www.rsc.org/chemistryworld/Issues/2003/October/cooking.asp


	3. Meeting of the Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John spends his afternoon off getting to know the newest resident of 221 Baker Street.

Anna tip toes quietly up the stairs into 221b and heads for the kitchen. She leaves a lidded container wrapped in brown parchment in the refrigerator and silently turns for the door, trying her best not to disturb Sherlock in slumber. 

Just as she crosses the threshold, she bumps into John, clad in a robe with a towel draped over his shoulder. 

"Good Morning Dr Watson!" she beams.  
"Hello Anna! Nice to meet another early riser" he smiles. He scrubs the top of his head with his left hand and blinks the sleep from his eyes. 

"So, how was dinner? You certainly don't look any worse for wear."  
"It was great fun. I was just leaving some leftovers in your fridge." 

"Great fun? Dinner with Sherlock and Mrs Hudson? " he furrows his brow.

"Sherlock helped me cook. We worked quite well as a team. He found the measuring and time keeping aspects fascinating. To him, it was like an experiment that you consume afterward. He took great delight in explaining to Mrs Hudson the many details combining spices and the perfect way to bloom them in oil. Too bad you had to work last night. You'd have enjoyed yourself. Anyhoo, I can see that you're on your way to begin your daily ablutions. Today is your day off, yes?"  
"Yes."

"I take it you'll have morning tea with our detective?" Anna surmises.  
"Yes, creatures of habit that we are..." John chuckles.

“I'm free today too. My lesson plans are all done so, if you don't have anything else on, come down and we'll find something to amuse ourselves. Movies and popcorn, maybe? Or we can sit and chat. Your call..."

"I'd like that, Anna. We haven't had a chance to socialize since you've moved in. Bloody unneighborly, but working different schedules and 'Our Detective' - as you so aptly put it - keep us very busy." 

"Ring the bell and come on in. I'll leave the door unlocked." Anna offers.  
"Well then, until later?" John nods.

An awkward beat passes between the two, as they are unsure whether they should hug, shake hands, or give a polite peck on both cheeks. Anna steps forward, pecks John politely on the cheek, and descends the staircase without a backward glance. John touches his cheek and delights at how warm it feels. He notices the faint smell of shortbread and raspberry jam and sighs contentedly as he heads for the bathroom.

He stops in the kitchen just long enough to plug in the kettle, and inspect the goodies left by Anna. He finds what looks like a small parcel, wrapped in parchment paper, secured by a sticky note:

John,  
Dinner went swimmingly! Here's a taste of last night's meal.  
Also - left a Red Stripe for you, hidden among the detritus.  
Heat the food, drink the beer cold as you can stand it.  
Covered & wrapped the container to prevent cross contamination.  
FFS! Your immune system must be a-mazing!  
ttys... Anna 

John smiles at the note, places the parcel back in the fridge, and pads down the hall to the bathroom. 

John finishes his morning routine just as the kettle boils. He returns to the kitchen to make his first cuppa of the day with toast and a generous dollop of raspberry jam. He sniffs the jam and thinks of Anna. Mug in hand, John moves into the sitting room, where he notices the paper waiting for him next to the arm of the sofa. He's just settled in when he hears Sherlock stirring. 

Sherlock makes a stop in the kitchen to a pour mug of tea, and smile when he sees the toast John left for him. 

"Good morning Sherlock"  
"John..." he bellows in response.

He ambles over to the sofa, and sits next to John, who is deeply engrossed in his morning reading. 

"How was dinner, Sherlock? I heard it went rather well." John asks without looking away from his reading.

Sherlock smiles lightly and admits: "It was most productive indeed. I was completely unaware how scientific the culinary arts really are. Did you know that real curry spice is a very complex mixture, and varies from place to place?!"  
"Actually, uhh... Yeah - I already knew that, Sherlock"  
"Fascinating!" Sherlock exclaims.

"So, what are we up to on our day off, John?"  
"Well, Anna has invited me to come downstairs and visit for a while. Think I'll take her up on it" John folds down a corner of the paper to see the pout on Sherlock's face.

"When was this?"  
"A short while ago. She'd tucked away a portion of last night's supper, and I almost literally bumped into her on the way out."  
"So, you've seen her today?" Sherlock asks. Very nearly interrogating his friend.  
"Umm hmm..." John's reply.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow as he asks "What was she wearing?"  
"Purple trainers, red compression top, matching tights, with a cap that read ‘Remove Before Flight’"

"Brilliant details, John."  
"Thanks."  
Before Sherlock can ask John volunteers: "Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had a pair of Oakley's propped on the bill of her cap"  
"Going for an early morning run? Hmmm..." Sherlock quirks a half grin.  
"That would be my guess..." John adds.  
John stops reading and lays the paper across his lap. Both men sigh in unison and sip their tea. 

ooo~0~ooo

Late morning finds John in the sitting room of 221B by his lonesome, as Sherlock has taken off on a secret errand.

John decides to check his blog, and head downstairs for his visit with Anna. As requested, he rings the doorbell and proceeds down the stairs. He hears music, smacking and grunting noises coming from Anna's flat. John rushes in to find Anna taking down a grappling dummy. John is stunned at her aggression, but also a little turned on.

"John! Nice to see you!" Anna pants, still wrapped around the dummy in a kill position.  
"Good to see you too!" He smiles. "Wish I could say the same for your friend there." He chuckles, and offers his hand to help Anna to her feet. 

"Thank you. I had a little pent up agita and I'm between classes so..."  
"You don't take down your students for incorrect answers do you?!" He teases.

"You're funny, John. I dig that about you" She smiles and claps him on a shoulder. "No, I take classes at London Krav Maga. It's just a couple of streets over."

"Wow. I don't know whether to be scared, amazed, or impressed" He blurts out, with a somewhat concerned look on his face.  
"That's genuine confusion there..." She takes note of his expression as he speaks. 

[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20October/5B5EB8E2-F755-4FEE-9E3A-4F9EA477C7CB_zps7il1xdxd.jpg.html)

"Don't worry, I promise to not be harboring some super secret skill set in wet work" she jokes.  


"No, not at all. And, to be honest - you nailed it. Sherlock said you were insightful."  
"Now _that_ is a compliment! I'd have thought he'd be annoyed with me for mucking about in his Mind Palace"  
"Oh, he was definitely annoyed. But he was impressed that you held your own with him. That doesn't happen very often"  
"I suspect he's used to people crumbling under the weight of his deductions. Pfft! He doesn't scare me. I have brothers. They were merciless growing up." 

As they share a laugh, Anna realizes that they're still in the outer room, and she hadn't formally invited John inside.  
"You must think me awfully rude, please come through, John. Do you mind making yourself comfy while I freshen up?"  
"No, not at all. Take all the time you need" John says politely as he sinks into her sofa. 

Anna disappears into her bedroom and re-emerges moments later wearing an oversized GWU sweatshirt over denim jeggings and scrunchy boot socks. 

"Looked like you could do some damage, tell me more about your martial arts training."  
"Well, my Mom sent me to take ballet lessons. But, my Father was livid because he didn't want me to be a poncy pink princess kinda girl. Only so much damage you can do with a toe shoe, ya know? Dad's compromise was him teaching Krav Maga at home, and Mom taking me to ballet lessons. Win/Win, both were very happy."

"Why not ordinary Karate or Judo?" John wonders aloud.  
"Because, my Dad learned it for his job, and thought it would be kinda cool if his darlin’ baby girl could kick some serious ass." Anna grins.  
"I'm sure you can hold your own in any situation. But honestly? A real gentleman would never require you to put those skills to the test, Anna."  
"Are you a real gentleman, Mr Three Continents?" Anna asks in a very smoky mezzo.  
"I'd certainly like to think so." He smiles shyly, looking away from Anna.  
"You've been with us on crime scenes, and I can say - only someone truly desperate would ever consider messing you about. You have a way about you. I think you're amazing"  
"Do you know that you've said that out loud before?"  
"Well, I'm a great admirer of intellect and beauty. And you have both" 

The apples of Anna's cheeks begin to turn a lovely shade of fuchsia. 

"You and Sherlock have a very interesting approach to things. It's like watching some bizarre tag team." he says.  


"We've developed quite an interesting shorthand, Sherlock and I. More like a pitcher getting signs from his catcher, than a tag team. If I see something, I'll hand Sherlock his viewer pointed toward the person or thing of note. If he's not seen it he flips it open and subtly moves toward it. If he already has a bead on it, he hands it back closed and flashes a quick micro expression."  
"I'd noticed that, Anna. I find it extraordinary how quickly you two found a rhythm." John smiles reassuringly.  
"I'm sure our bickering must throw folks for a loop, John. But like all the great pitchers, he occasionally shakes off a sign. Which might cause us to snipe at each other at bit. But, when the game is on... It. Is. On."  
"And ohhhh Sally Donovan just loves you. Now she has even more reason to feel threatened." John chortles.  
"I had a little chat with our Sergeant Donovan. I told her that her antagonism of Sherlock would not stand. I got up close and personal to tell her that she was unprofessional, passive aggressive, and childish."  
"I'm sure she rather enjoyed hearing that!"  
"Not as much as me telling her that if she said another unflattering word to or about Sherlock in my presence, I would eviscerate her just as publicly as she'd done Sherlock." Anna reveals.

"That was last week, _wasn't it_? I saw that happen, and didn't have a clue what the two of you had discussed. But, when you walked away... the color had drained from her face and she looked completely gobsmacked. Well done, you"  
"I do not suffer assholes, fuckwits or bullies lightly, John." Says Anna, very plainly.  


The doctors turn toward each other, smiling knowingly and perhaps a bit flirtatiously at each other.

"I'm ravenously hungry, John. Would you like to have lunch with me?"  
"Oh, God yes..."

"We could have a real meal, or maybe just graze a bit, maybe watch a movie. What's your fancy?"  
"You mentioned popcorn and a movie earlier. I'd enjoy that very much, Anna."  
"Cool! Ladies choice!" she giggles. "How does Clint Eastwood sound?"  
"Interesting choice. I'd have thought you'd want to watch something deep and thought provoking..."  
"Nah, not in the mood for chick flicks, or anything requiring cogent conversation during or afterwards. Ooo!... Let's watch "The Eiger Sanction?"  
"Don't think I've seen that one."  
"You'll like it. Young Mr Eastwood at the top of his game. Sexy time, intrigue, betrayal, redemption, and a few snarky moments of comic relief. Delivered as only Eastwood can in his trademark clinched teeth, steely eyed dead pan!"  
"Sounds like fun. Disc or Cloud?" he asks.  
"Cloud! If you cue up the movie, I'll pop some popcorn for us."

John searches for and finds the remote. Using the search feature on Anna's streaming device, he locates the movie. He realizes that he's enjoying himself, and hopes he'll be invited to spend time with his new neighbor more often. 

The sounds and smells of fresh popcorn waft through Anna's flat, and John suddenly realises that he is genuinely peckish. Just as John's empty stomach begins to rumble its disapproval, Anna appears with two cold beers, and two bowls of popcorn. She offers John a beer with a glass on top, and sets down both bowls of popcorn. 

"Two bowls, Anna? I thought we were sharing?" John looks at her quizzically.  
"We can share, but I felt adventurous and made two flavors. The first bowl is good old fashioned butter flavor, the second is Hatch chili and bacon flavor." She raises and lowers her eyebrows and chuckles.  
"Chili pepper and bacon sounds delicious!" John's eyes sparkle, and he prepares to dig in, then thinks better of it: "May I use your loo, please?"  
"Sure, through the door over there. Sorry. It's in my bedroom. Hope you don't mind." She gestures over her shoulder.  
"Back in a jiffy. Don't start the movie without me!" John leaps to his feet, and makes a mad dash for her en suite. 

While she waits Anna pours John's beer into the glass. She tilts it just so, allowing the beer to churn without creating a large head of foam. John appears moments later wringing his still moist hands. 

"Washed hands! You're so polite, John" she smiles.  
John settles back into his spot on the sofa and digs in to the spicy popcorn.  
"Anna! This is delicious!" John says as he stuffs his mouth full of popped corn.  
"Anything can be a guilty pleasure with a sprinkle of bacon salt. Cool thing? The bacon flavor is actually vegan!"  
"Hmm... Still rather tasty, though" John adds, as he munches on a fistful of popcorn.

Anna sits cross legged on the sofa and pulls the bowl of spicy corn into her lap.  
She reaches across for her beer, and John hands it to her, with a smile. Anna returns his smile, and sighs happily.

oooOooo

The doorbell rings and just as Anna moves to answer the door, Sherlock breezes in. She welcomes him into her sitting area, where he eyes John, sprawled lazily across Anna's sofa with his hand stuck in a bowl of popcorn. 

"C'mon in Sherlock. Join us!" Anna says as she leads further into the room.  
"Cozy, are we?... John." He remarks. 

John props himself on an elbow and reaches for his glass. Finding it empty, he furrows his brow, places it back on the table and slides it away by the coaster. Sherlock's eyes dart around the room, taking in the scene, and formulating deductions about how the doctor & Anna have spent their afternoon. 

Anna peels Sherlock's coat off and places it on a coat hook.

"I'll not disturb your little visit. I just wanted to leave something with you, Anna." Sherlock walks over to his coat, takes a jar out of a pocket and hands it to Anna. She looks at it and squeals like a school girl. 

"A personalised jar of NUTELLA?! Omigosh! Thanks Sherlock!" She clasps the jar to her bosom and pecks Sherlock on the cheek. He quirks a brow, but is secretly happy that his gift was well received.

[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2017%20-%20April/45A9F6D1-A70D-4755-8E1A-C75C90B4E05F_zpsaaamsv8s.jpeg.html)

"Now you hafta stay, Sherlock. Sit-sit-sit!" She ushers him over to the sofa and scampers off to her kitchenette.  
"Somebody's been to Selfridges! So that was the secret errand? Nicely done, Sherlock." John congratulates the detective on his thoughtful goodwill gesture. 

Anna returns with three spoons, and another Stella for John. She offers a spoon to both John and Sherlock, then opens the jar of hazelnut spread and gives it a stir. She plants herself between the two men, leaning into Sherlock and placing her feet across John's lap. She holds the opened jar towards the detective, who dips into it with his spoon, and sits staring as the glob of spread oozes down the back of the utensil. Anna leans over and licks the spoon with a flattened tongue, and smiles wickedly. She holds the jar toward John, who dives in eagerly and gleefully consumes a monstrous dollop of the confection. 

"How'd you know I was out of Nutella, Sherlock?"  
"A few days ago when I called on you for some paperwork, there was a nearly empty jar on your coffee table. Last evening I noticed the same jar upside down with a purple sticky note on which you had drawn a frown." 

"Thanks again. See, you do care." She winks.  
"Don't you go letting on..." He smiles.  
"Your secret's safe with me, Sherlock." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demeter Fragrance Library actually makes raspberry jam, and shortbread scents:  
> http://www.demeterfragrance.com/704255/products/Raspberry-Jam.html
> 
> http://www.demeterfragrance.com/704185/products/Scottish-Shortbread.html
> 
> One of my fave treats in the whole wide world is spicy kettle corn. It's very simple to make. Add your preferred sugar and fave ground hot peppers to a freshly popped bowl of popcorn.  
> (For the love of Hoggoth, I implore you to pop your own from kernels :~0 )  
> I use Splenda. Feel free to use whichever powdery sweetener *you* like Next, I add several shakes of Arizona Hatch Seasoning. (http://www.anthonyspices.com/bulk_spices.htm#hatchspice)  
> Chili powder and kosher salt blended to taste would probably work just as well.
> 
> http://greatist.com/eat/healthy-popcorn-recipes?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=Food52&utm_campaign=GreatistFood52Social
> 
>  
> 
> Bacon salt? It's a thing: http://www.jdfoods.net/products/seasonings/
> 
>  
> 
> Not Beta'd. Mistakes? All mine...


	4. Bored Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which The Behaviorist misbehaves, and Sherlock lightens up a bit.

"Anna, why are you draped over my chair upside down staring up at me as if... I'm not sure, exactly?" Sherlock asks the behaviorist.  


  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2014-12/3A12D9FA-3C82-4D9C-A969-0630F3D669A5_zps3p5afupl.jpg.html)

"Bored!!" She mutters, while chomping on a huge wad of bubblegum. Anna blows a bubble, pops it and twists it around a finger as she watches Sherlock's face contort in puzzlement.  


  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20Jan/583FCE76-2D6E-4591-BDA1-2BE1A7675B54_zpsdqduvxlc.jpg.html)

"So you've come upstairs to share your ennui? Should I feel honored?" he queries.  
"Here I am now - Entertain me!" Anna teases in a annoying singsong.

Sherlock circles his chair taking in the sight of his fetching neighbor and temporary colleague lounging impudently in his favorite chair as if daring him to react to her presence in his space.  
"You like to play games, dontcha... Sherlock?"  
"On occasion, yes." he snorts.  
"Might this be one of those occasions, Wils?" she chortles.  
"Please stop calling me that name, _Andromeda_ " he counters.

She sticks out her tongue at him, lifts her head and laughs. 

"You're behaving like a spoiled child, Anna. One in need of a spanking, and perhaps a time out."  
"I'd like to see you try." She grins.

Sherlock leans on the fireplace mantel. Anna rises to her feet and jogs her hip around the chair, finding herself directly in front of the irritated detective.  
"This sudden burst of petulance doesn't suit you, doctor. Don't you have some papers to grade?"  
"Nope!" She responds, popping the "P" for emphasis and further irritation.  
"Lecture to prepare? Mise en place to assemble? Toe shoes to break in?"  
"Nope. Nope! Annnnd NOPE!"  
The two stand toe to toe, with Anna mimicking Sherlock's dour countenance and posture. He growls at her, and she growls back. A beat passes, they smile at each other and Anna succumbs to a fit of giggles.

"So, Dr Eberhardt... Is this how I seem to others when I myself am bored?" Sherlock quizzes.  
"Minus the side arm? Yeah, pretty much"  
"You've heard about that, then?" He knits his brow, and worries his bottom lip.  
"I'm not judging you Sherlock. Just taking the piss. Your facial expressions are a veritable treasure trove of agita."  
"Delighted to be so diverting, Dr. Eberhardt" He says, barely able to disguise his derision.

She grins, reaches toward Sherlock with an index finger and taps the end of his nose.  
"BOOP! Got yer nose!" 

Sherlock narrows his eyes and takes a step toward Anna, preparing to usher her from his sitting room, but she artfully steps backward and scampers over to the sofa. She gleefully spins a pirouette and throws herself onto the sofa with a thud.

"It's very concerning that the more creative of us is bored witless. I have infinitesimal experience considering and acting upon the desires of others, Anna. If you're at loose ends, imagine how I feel..." He casts his eyes toward the floor, and sighs. 

"Don't you guys keep a board game or two around?"  
"Ah, yesss... CLUEDO!" he grins, impishly.  
"Nooo!" she yawps.  
"My reputation precedes me again, I'm afraid?"  
"Don't worry. We'll figure out something. Wait! Don't you have Operation lying around here somewhere?" Anna wonders.  
"Actually, yes. Would you like to play?"he offers.  
“Yeah. Sounds like fun." 

Sherlock disappears into his bedroom, and re-emerges with a battle worn box and the board game within. He flips off the top, and proudly sets up the game on the coffee table. 

Anna tucks a leg beneath her, watching with great curiosity as Sherlock bests her two out of three games.

"Anna! You weren't even trying!" Sherlock pouts, folds his arms and tucks his hands under his arms as pushes the coffee table away with his foot.  
"Sorry. You're right. I was allowing myself to enjoy watching your fingers while you worked the tweezers."  
"Why?" He asks as he unfolds his arms to stare at his hands.  
"Do you really have to ask?"  
"Yes, I find it necessary to ask why you find my fingers so fascinating that you'd not pay attention to the game." He quirks his chin and pokes out his lip, determined to remain sullen.  
"Geeze, Sherlock... Occasionally you are extraordinarily daft."  
"Meaning?"  
Anna shakes her head, and cards her fingers through her loopy espresso curls. Sherlock crosses his legs toward her leans back, and steeples his fingers as he listens.  
"I've seen you use charm as weapon, Sherlock." she says with a quizzical look.  
"I do what I must to gain personal insight into someone's behavior. It's for The Work. After all, human error accounts for most of the information gathered during investigations."  
"And there you have it, Sherlock. People are more complex, and more simple than you give them credit for."  
"That sounds very circular, doctor..." he taps his forefingers as he speaks.  
"Let me be very blunt, then. You're a very attractive man, Sherlock. And, I'm just a red blooded gal." She smiles.  
"You're pulling punches. That's not like you." he intuits.  
"Ummm, okay... Where was I?"  
"Attractive guy. Me..." he points to himself. "Red blooded gal, that would be you." Once again he steeples his fingers and points to her with both forefingers.  
"Yes, right. But I do believe I said ‘man’, not guy."  
"Is there a difference, Anna? Please elucidate..." he quirks a brow and grins.  
"Take John, for instance. John is a guy. Chunky comfy sweaters, jeans. The sort of bloke who'd hunker down with you under a warm blankie and a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows with on a rainy night. You're different, Sherlock. On a rainy night, I'd sit here on the sofa alone under my blankie swirling glass of Malbec while you sweetly play a Brahms concerto." 

"We've gone off piste a bit, have we not? Though I'd like to come back to your comparison. It seemed very astute, but somehow still specious."  
"John would never say specious..." she teases.  
"Anna! Fingers? What was your bloody preoccupation with my fingers?!" he grouses.  
"Your fingers are very sexy. There... I've said it out loud. Not walkin' it back, either."  
"How can fingers be sexy?"  
"Rrrrraarrgh! You don't get it do ya?" Anna yelps in sheer frustration. 

"Your fingers are long and lithe, just like their owner. When you use a pipette, it looks almost magical. And the way your fingers glide over violin strings? Sheer poetry. Your Pizzicatos are mindblowingly precise. Tender, passionate. And your facial expressions when doing either are nearly ethereal." she sighs.  
"Momentary and random thoughts of naughtiness concerning said appendages get to stay in my thought bubble, though." She adds, with a bawdy grin.

"I... Umm... Wow. That was rather an earful, wasn't it?" His eyes widen and he scratches his head.  
"You invited me to stop pulling punches. Be careful what you ask for, Sherlock."  
"I shall endeavour to be mindful of that, going forward." He chuckles uncomfortably. 

"I just had a thought, Sherlock"  
"I shudder to think what you could be churning in that head of yours." he simpers.  
"Nothing untoward. Tomorrow I'm reading a story to the children on Peds at Bart's. I wanted to make a treat to share with them, and decided on stained glass lollipops."  
"You know how to make candy!" He asks, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.  
"Kinda. Mostly. This is a big cheat, but the result is beautiful" Anna beams.  
"Hmmm?"  
"I'm going to need those gorgeous fingers of yours to help me unwrap lots of Jolly Ranchers."  
"I thought you were making candy?" he asks.  
" _We_ are... We'll unwrap the candies, arrange them in oiled moulds and heat it to the temperature of hard crack stage. Add lollipop sticks. When they cool, the candy looks like stained glass!"  
"Brilliant!" he cheers.  
"I get to put your fingers to good use and, when we're done you get a treat."  
"Your kitchen or mine?" Sherlock asks, happily.

Both take a quick look at the kitchen of 221B, and answer at the same:

"Mine!" says Anna.  
"Yours!" laughs Sherlock.

Anna unfolds her legs and stretches gracefully. She rises to her feet and stands arm across waist, hand on hip, feet neatly in third position.  
"C'mon then!" She offers Sherlock a hand, and pulls him toward her. He leaps to his feet, scrabbles for his mobile and the two race each other down the stairs to 221c. When they reach Anna's door, Mrs Hudson pokes out her head to greet the duo.  
"Oh! Hello you two!, just wanted to see what all the commotion was about. You look busy, won't keep you. Anna dear, thank you for manipulating my hip. Sitting on that rubber ball takes a bit of getting used to, but it certainly has helped." she chirps.  
"Anytime, Mrs Hudson. Umm, gotta go. I'll check in on you this evening." Anna giggles as she disappears behind her door.  
"Hudders! Always a pleasure! Laters!" Sherlock bellows as he makes his way down to Anna's Flat. 

Sherlock arrives downstairs first, heads straight for the kitchen, and pulls up a stool at her breakfast bar.

"Candy?! Where's the candy?!" Sherlock drums his fingers impatiently.

Anna gathers her candy making supplies and sits next to Sherlock as she fans out ingredients and equipment.

"So, Sherlock... The temperature of hard crack stage is roughly 146° to about 245°. Where would you set the temperature for the most even results?"  
"My best estimation would be 150°." Sherlock confidently states.  
"Final answer?" Anna teases.  
"Yes..."  
"Sure ya don't wanna phone a friend? Use a life line, maybe?" She grins.  
"I'm not well versed in the art of candy making, but I'm confident that you'll find my calculation to be accurate."  
Anna rubs Sherlock's shoulder, and smiles.  
"I'm just giving you a hard time. I'd normally go with about 303° Fahrenheit, so we're in the same ballpark. Will you turn on the oven for me, please?"  
"Is that the first step?"  
"One of many, Sherlock" 

Sherlock nods and smiles broadly as he moves to turn on the oven, setting it at the predetermined temperature.

He takes his seat next to Anna, who places a bag of Jolly Rancher candies in front of him, and continues with further instructions.

"One bag for you, one for me. The next part is the most tedious by far because we've gotta unwrap both bags of candy. Unwrapped candies go in the bowl between us, and wrappers can go into a pile. Ready?"  
"Are you?" He quirks a brow and grins.  
"Come to think of it, maybe not..." Anna reaches for her tablet, and accesses her music library. "How 'bout a little music?" She scrolls through her playlist and cues up "Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing.  
Without noticing, Sherlock finds himself carried along by the music until the task is complete. Minutes later, they stand before the cooling treats beaming with a sense of accomplishment and pride. 

"Whatcha Want" by the Beastie Boys begins, and Anna coaxes Sherlock into dancing with her. They move joyfully around her flat and are startled when they notice Mycroft standing stoically in Anna's doorway. The pair end their wild baltering to address the phlegmatic presence before them. They look at each other like two children caught in an act of mischief. "Stoppit!" Anna swats at Sherlock.  
"No, you stop!" he swats back.  
"No, YOU!" she giggles.  
"YOU!" Sherlock rumbles.  
"I know you are, but what am I!?" Anna quips.  


They repeat the line in unison, several times, in rapid succesion before Sherlock calls out: "INFINITY!"  
Anna stifles one last giggle, and clears her throat. Mycroft sternly looks them over as he stands contrapposto, leaned against his umbrella.

"Doctor Eberhardt, you've not been answering your mobile, my dear. Thus I am forced to pay a visit to your lovely little flat. How are... _things_?"  
" _Things_ are going rather well. Thank you for looking in on me. What can I do for you. Mycroft?"  


"I had some questions about your quaint little notion about the so called _Psy-Ops of Smell ___. I'd like you to prepare a brief for me. When can you have it ready?" He insists, ever so politely.  
"If your need is immediate, you might care to reference my research materials, or perhaps the transcript of my thesis defence. You do have access to those papers, correct" she quizzes.  
"Oh! Yes, of course. What was I thinking? So sorry to disturb your little tete à tete with my brother." Mycroft snorts, nose upturned.

"Not at all. As a matter of fact, I've been remiss in not inviting you the enjoy fruits of your generosity. I value your friendship tremendously, and would welcome the opportunity to be a more gracious host. Shall I phone Anthea to inquire of your availability?" Anna takes Mycroft's topspin and slams an ace.

Sherlock hangs back and takes in the entire transaction with great relish.

"No need. I'll be checking in from time to time. Lovely to see you adjusting to life here at 221 with such aplomb. Your presence here has engendered great curiosity amongst your colleagues at UCL. Needless to say, there are a great many people rooting for you. Your boss back home is extraordinarily pleased with your progress. Do keep up the good work." Mycroft's officious speechifying had at last found its end. He turns toward Sherlock and nods.

"Good day, Doctor Eberhardt. Sherlock?"  
"Mycroft..." Sherlock grunts, through clenched teeth.

The dejected expression on Sherlock's face spurred Anna into action. She decides that a bit of levity would remedy the dectective's darkening mood.

"Hey! Over here!..." Anna waves her arms and whistles. Sherlock closes his eyes and shakes his head ruefully.

"Come back from the dark side, I've got candy!" Anna grins.  
Anna strides over to the kitchen and removes one of the cool, but still warm lollipops from the mold. She walks over to Sherlock and offers him the treat, spinning it by its stick. 

"You handled him rather adeptly, Anna. Well done." Sherlock manages.  
"It's not some mystical power, just a little Applied Psychology, Sherlock"  
"Here Sherlock. Take your lolly..."  
"How do you know it's mine?"  
"Because we put our inintials in the center of each one. Look - this one has a big stick up its ‘S’!" She starts a whole new round of giggles, and Sherlock gladly joins in her laughter. Anna feels relieved that Sherlock's mood has taken a turn for the better. Her self appointed task is to keep her mercurial friend suitably occupied. 

Anna fetches her tablet from the kitchen, scrolls through her playlist, and turns on a Bluetooth speaker.  
"Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" 

"Picasso Baby" pours out of the tiny speaker and she shimmies up to Sherlock.  
"C'mon. You know you want to. I can see that light in your eyes." She throws her head back and laughs some more.  
Sherlock stands barely moving, but counts the time signature by lightly tapping his foot.  
"Not feelin' Jay Z, huh? No worries..." 

She changes the music in an effort to entice Sherlock into dancing with her. As "Beat Box, Diversion One" wafts through the flat Sherlock loosens up a bit and joins Anna.

"You've got moves! Very nice, Holmes!"  
"It's a secret I've kept for a long time! I love to dance!" Sherlock smiles as he matches Anna's gyrations. The twosome dance themselves into sheer exhaustion, flopping themselves onto Anna's couch in a fit of giggles.

 

"Still bored, Anna?" He joshes.  
"Hell no! Now I'm starving." She pants.

"Take-away? My treat..." he offers.  
"Sounds like a plan." She kisses the shell of Sherlock's ear and stands to stretch.

"I'm gonna freshen up and change. You?" she asks.  
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea, Anna. I'll order for us and meet you back here with our meal. Any preferences?"  
"Nothing fussy. Whatever you and John would eat will be fine" She shrugs as she puts up her hair, and smiles sweetly.

Sherlock slips away quietly as Anna heads for her bedroom. He returns nearly an hour later to find Anna fast asleep on her sofa. He sets down a large paper sack full of food on the coffee table. Next, he removes the blanket from the back of the sofa, and covers the sleeping behaviorist. He sweeps a few stray curls from her face and smiles lightly. 

He pads into her kitchen to find plates, then plants himself next to Anna on the sofa. Sherlock then dishes up a portion of fish and chips, and turns on the television. The rangy detective crosses his legs and settles in while Anna naps. He sighs contentedly, completely unaware that he's allowed himself to simply relax with a friend, like any other guy...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hard Crack:  
> 295°-310° degrees F/146°-155° degrees C  
> Syrup will form threads that are stiff (brittle) and break easily. Used for brittles, toffees, glazed fruit, hard candy, pulled poured and spun sugar.  
> Read more: http://www.joyofbaking.com/StagesOfCookedSugar.html#ixzz3MBLhmT
> 
> Spacing is doing my head in. Perhaps I'll fix it later. And perhaps I won't... ;~P
> 
> more notes later...


	5. Maximum Wattage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna forges a new alliance with a colleague that seems oddly familiar. Sherlock is none too pleased. 
> 
>  
> 
> “Any fool can know. The point is to understand.”  
> ~Albert Einstein

Anna sits in a comfy sunny spot near The Wilkins Building at UCL wearing a houndstooth pencil skirt, a navy blue twinset draped with a hand dyed Northern Lights scarf, topped with a form fitting Belstaff jacket. Her outfit is completed by seamed hose, and a pair of vintage navy blue DMs. She's enjoying the outdoors, and transcribing a few notes, when a colleague approaches her. 

"Dr Eberhardt?" asked the tall, grey haired man.  
"Yes, how may I help you?"  
"Um...Hello! Dr Patrick Watts. Chemical Engineering?" he stammers, as he nibbles the cuticle of his thumb.  
"Nice to finally meet you in person!" Anna extends a hand for a web to web handshake. Watts reaches out with the hand he's been nibbling, switching hands at the last possible second. 

"We've been playing e-mail tag for weeks now. Are you busy? Do you have time for tea and a chat?" She smiles, taking in the full measure of the man. By her reckoning, there's something oddly familiar about him that she just can't quantify completely.  
"That'd be great. My class schedule for is done for the day, but I do have office hours later." 

Anna collects her things and begins stuffing her papers and tablet into a messenger bag. Watts lends a hand, making short work of the task. They decide upon a nearby coffee house. The two stroll casually and chat very amiably. He regales her with tales of his quiz show days, and Anna wistfully reminisces about her friends and family life in Washington, DC. 

Upon arriving at Yumchaa, Watts opens the door for Anna, allowing her to enter first. They find two comfy chairs and decide what to order. Professor Watts returns to their table with Earl Grey for two and two beautiful muffins. Anna politely pours tea for the professor, but before she can pour herself a cup, he turns the handle of the teapot and fills her cup, much to her delight.  
"Thanks ever so, Doctor Watts" she smiles.  
"Please call me Patrick."  
"Very well. Thank you Patrick."  
"You seem surprised that I would pour for you, doctor, I mean... Anna"  
"It's a very Asian gesture, hmm? Not given to superstition, I'm very big on politeness."  
"Yes, it is said that the first pour goes in order of seniority, and that one should never pour their own first cup." he confirms. Anna sips, and nods.

"So, I'm sure you're wondering why I've been so determined to contact you?"  
"I'm sure it's to do with your research. Smell and sense memory sound like a fascinating combination. I've read about you on John Watson's blog. I've also read your bio on the Lightman Group website."  
"Well then, you already know that I'm a behaviorist. My Post-Doc work has been interesting. Academia is not as lowkey as people seem to believe. My main goal while I'm here is to prove my signature theory on exactly how sense memory and smell are connected. Apparently I'm in need a little nudge from the hard sciences."  
"Mmmm. I see... Can you tell me more?" He pinches a piece of his muffin, and washes it down with a large gulp of tea as he listens intently to Anna.

She watches his fingers closely as he eats. She makes note of the mangled cuticles of his dominant hand, indicating he's a man of a somewhat nervous disposition. Anna also notices that while he respectfully listens to her speak, he leans away, but leaves his upper body posture open. And, his legs are crossed. He waggles his foot quite a bit and often points it toward her bag. She smiles to herself as she continues.

"I have a firm grasp of how smell effects memory as it relates to behavior, but not the neurochemistry of it. I was wondering if you could point me toward one of your colleagues who would be interested or available to pick up the mantle on the chemistry side and co-author a paper with me."

"Well, um... Anna... Neurochemistry is not in my wheelhouse. But, I'd welcome the opportunity to co-author with you. It would be my privilege to help you proffer your theory in a more cogent way, and I'd quite enjoy learning something new." He says, with a tight lipped grin.  
"Dr Watts, you have made my day!"

He blushes, and smiles.

"Cheers, Patrick! Here's to the art of collaboration!" Anna smiles broadly as they lift their mugs in celebration of their new partnership.

Patrick looks at his watch, and begins to drum his fingers nervously, becoming more and more antsy by the second. Anna leans in and asks: "You have somewhere to be don't you, Professor Watts?"

"Sorry. I really must dash. I... Um..." he fidgets.  
"Your office hours?" she nods.  
"Yes. Correct!"  
"Please don't let me keep you..." She purrs, in an almost inappropriately smoky mezzo.

"I don't get out very much. All work, no play, and all that..."  
"Well, we've gotta change that." She says, as the apples of her cheeks light up. "Why not stop by my flat later so that we can hammer out details of our joint venture? Supper and paperwork? If you're not already spoken for, that is..."  
"No, not spoken for" he smiles bashfully.  
"Great. I'm going up front to pick up some dessert for later, and a small treat for a friend. Meet you outside?"  
"Take your time. I'm happy to wait here for you." he grins.  
"I'll fetch my treats, and we'll take our leave, yes?" she confirms. 

He nods his approval. Anna makes her way to the counter to purchase two slices of cake to share with Patrick, and three slices to share with Sherlock, John and Mrs Hudson. Sure that the detective will be thrilled with a slice of chocolate velvet cake she smiles and nearly giggles as she selects three perfect wedges of cake. The treats are wrapped and passed to her and she has a spring in her step as she returns to retrieve her bag and prepare to leave the coffee house. Before she can round the corner, Patrick stoops down to pick up her messenger bag. 

Anna cants her head and quirks a brow as she muses "That ass tho'..." She purses her lips, exhales quietly and shakes her head as if trying to rid herself of the thought.

Patrick politely hands Anna her bag with a smile, and the two make for the door. Once outside, Patrick nervously checks his watch again. 

"My apologies, but perhaps we could walk a bit briskly?"  
"Sure. I don't mind. 221 Baker Street is less than ten minutes away. Your walk back to campus is similarly short, if we don't dally." Anna offers.  
"Brilliant!" Watts' cheerful reply.

The two academicians stride toward Baker Street energetically and full of purpose. Having arrived at Anna's doorstep, the professor makes an observation. 

"You're a Mensan?!" He exclaims, twirling the keychain Anna repurposed as a zipper pull on her bag.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/9CAA8F82-497D-45DE-88B4-4CA49D90338E_zpshiahwxpj.jpg.html)

"And you sir, are a member of The Royal Society of Chemistry" she says, pointing to a dog-eared copy of Chemistry World poking out of a pocket on Patrick's trench coat. 

They laugh and make plans to meet later for dinner and a strategy session. The faint sound of Anna's laughter entices Sherlock to peek out of the window in the sitting room. He narrows his eyes as he focuses on the scene below. When hears the jingle of Anna's keys in the lock, he grabs his laptop and scurries for the sofa, hoping to boot up and pose himself before she reaches the top of the stairs. 

"Hello Sherlock!" Anna greets the detective, smiling cheerfully and bearing treats.  
"Oh. Back from campus, are we?" he sniffs, almost indignantly.  
"Lighten up Wils. I come in peace."  
"Tell me about your new friend, Anna."  
"He's a colleague, Sherlock. Doctor Watts and I are planning on co-authoring a paper. My paper, actually..."  
"I thought the role of chemist for your research belonged solely to me, and perhaps Molly?" He pouts.  
"You're still my go to guy, Sherlock. But now, I'll have two talented sets of watchful eyes to guide me. You're both members of The Royal Society of Chemistry, Sherlock. Don't you get how huge that is for the viability... No, _credibility_ of my study?" Anna enthuses.

Anna wildly miscalculates the effect of offering Watts' credentials to the huffy detective. His scowl deepens as she continues to explain her decision.

"When experiments can be performed less formally you and Molly can run them at Bart's. But, necessity dictates that the lion's share of the data gathering be under the auspices of the university. I thought you understood that, Sherlock."  
"I am now quite clear on the direction you intend to take."  
"Sherlock..." Anna sighs.

He pokes out his bottom lip, shakes his head and shrugs. 

"What did that mean?" Anna asks.  
"You're the expert. You tell me, _Doctor Eberhardt_."  
"Let's not do this. Please, Sherlock." She requests, chin quivering. 

He slams his laptop closed, crosses his legs away from her and folds his arms defiantly. 

Without a word, Anna places the boxed cake wedges on the coffee table. As Sherlock reaches for the package, two droplets of moisture wet his fingers. Anna turns to go, leaving without uttering another word. Sherlock sits stunned for a beat. By the time he realizes the error of his ways Anna is halfway down the staircase. He lopes over to the top of the stairs just in time to watch her round the banister en route to 221C. 

He jogs back into the sitting room, hastily snatches his mobile from his desk and texts Anna feverishly with no response. As a last resort he decides to dial her directly. Though his first attempts reach voicemail, she eventually answers her phone.

"Sherlock... Say nothing. Just listen to me..."  
"Ummm... Okay."  
"One mo 'gin... Say NOTHING!" She bellowed.

::silence::

"I never thought you would be able to reduce me to tears, but you have."  
"Anna, I'm..."  
"Please let me say this. It's important... When our friends excel at something, it does not diminish us in any way." she pauses. "When you solve a case..."  
"Don't you mean _We_ , Anna?"  
"When we solve a case together - my heart soars for you, Sherlock. My glow is never dimmed by lighting your candle. Or vice versa." Her voice shakes, and her eyes begin to moisten. "All that blather aside, I thought that you'd be happy for me today, Sherlock. Your reaction was not what I'd imagined. It felt petty, and a little harsh. Honestly? I was disappointed and felt a bit stung by it."

Sherlock sits on the sofa with his head in his hands staring down at his mobile as he listens to Anna on speaker.

"I've met someone who can help me take my work to the next level. Academia is a very cruel mistress. I must constanty prove my existence in a publish or perish kind of world. Be cool, or be cast out. Anyway, all I really want to say is that just because I'm making new friends doesn't mean that you are any less important. Hell... I live here, remember?"

Sherlock cards his fingers through his hair, and sighs. As he listens, he notices a tonal change in the location of Anna's voice. He looks up when he realizes she's standing in his doorway. 

"Bring it in, Sherlock... Let's hug it out!"

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20October/C22D25BC-B757-4D16-83E3-3240887ACE02_zpskg9wkgch.gif.html)

Sherlock meets Anna in the middle of the room. Anna throws her arms open and he steps into a warm friendly hug. They wrap their arms around the shoulders of the other, and sigh. She rubs circles between Sherlock's shoulder blades, and whispers in his ear: 

"You can, on occasion be one of the singularly most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious berks that I've ever met. And considering my vocation, that's saying an awful lot. But, you're my favorite work of art, Sherlock. I'd never want you to change for me." 

Sherlock chuckles knowingly, as he allows himself to melt into the hug. Though loathe to admit it, he's become fond of Anna. There's something appealing and reassuring in her unabashedly quirky otherness.  
"To paraphrase a fave movie, I am, and will ever remain your friend." she says, softly.  
"Thank you, Anna." He mumbles into her neck.

She pulls back to look directly in Sherlock's eyes as she speaks:  
"Don't thank me. Believe me."

"Okay. I'll try." His quiet reply.  
"Do, or do not..." She joshes.

"Anna?!..." he grumbles.

She quirks a slight grin, and says: "I swear Sherlock, if you ever treat me like that ever again - I will grab one of your nipples and twist until you screech like the castrato in a requiem mass."

He steps back, reflexively clutches his pecs, and shudders dramatically.  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2014-12/4A47B63E-10AD-474A-9A2F-22C2BB115264_zps9vxojnwc.jpg.html)

"That was extraordinarily vivid, Anna."  
"So, we're on the same page?" she chortles.  
"I'd say so." He closes his eyes, smiles and nods.

She reaches out and taps the end of his nose with her forefinger.  
"Yes. I know..." he rolls his eyes. "BOOP" He says mockingly, in a high pitched voice.

 

"Enjoy the cake, Wils." 

Anna looks over her shoulder and smiles as she leaves 221B. Having recalibrated her relationship with Sherlock, she departs happily, and on better terms. Both now having a newfound appreciation of the other.  
Moments after she'd gone, Sherlock takes a deep breath to fill himself with her lingering scent. He correctly intuits "Madeleines" and "Earl Grey Tea".

The bundle Anna left on the coffee table draws his attention. He picks it up and ferries it into the kitchen. He places the package on the kitchen table and heads for his bedroom, but the strong sweet smell entices him to open the box. When he does, he sees three beautiful, generous wedges of moist dark chocolate cake. A tiny note is tucked inside:

Do NOT keep all three slices for yourself.  
Play nice and share with John & Mrs Hudson ;~)  
(don't make that face Sherlock)  
Snoochie-Boochies! Anna♡

Sherlock laughs out loud as he palms the lightly scented note and slides it into his trouser pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demeter Fragrance Library:
> 
> Madeleine:  
> http://www.demeterfragrance.com/704132/products/Madeleine.html
> 
> Earl Grey Tea:  
> http://www.demeterfragrance.com/704077/products/Earl-Grey-Tea.html
> 
> The fictional character "Sherlock Holmes" was actually inducted into The Royal Society of Chemistry in 2002:  
> http://www.rsc.org/AboutUs/News/PressReleases/2005/Sherlock-holmes-rsc-fellowship.asp
> 
>   
>  [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/5554B346-2774-46B6-A317-E1B9CA0344E5_zpsbx7l4bnt.jpg.html)   
>    
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Notes later. Perhaps a pic or two.


	6. Homesick Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna longs for home and wants to share a few of her cravings with the gang at 221 Baker Street, but an unwanted visitor disrupts her plans for a quiet evening.

“Homesick blues is  
A terrible thing to have.  
To keep from cryin'  
I opens ma mouth an' laughs.”  
~Langston Hughes

 

A sweet savory smell is wafting through Mrs Hudson's flat. It's coming from downstairs, and curiosity has gotten the better of her. She politely descends the stairs to find Anna in her kitchenette, with various spices strewn about as she keeps a watchful eye on an unknown culinary project. She approaches gingerly, then gives a warm greeting.

"Yoo-hoo? Hello Anna dear!" Says Mrs. Hudson cheerfully, as she hugs Anna around her waist. Anna leans in to The kindly woman and smiles.

"Hello yourself. How's that hip today?" Anna wonders.  
"Not as stiff as usual. Thanks to you. Will we be stretching later?"  
"If you'd like. I'll always make time for you."  
"Thanks luv. You've taken such good care of me. It's such a joy having you around" Mrs Hudson smooths a hand up and down Anna's back as she keeps watch over her bubbling pot.

Anna grins as she looks down while she lovingly attends the pot of thick sauce. Mrs Hudson peeks around Anna just as a bubble breaks the surface, causing her to shriek and jump back.

"Oh my! That smells divine, but looks almost deadly! That's a bit of Sherlock rubbing off on you, isn't it dear? By the way - what are we making?" Mrs Hudson winks.  
"Barbecue sauce. I was feeling a bit homesick and wanted to make something to remind me of my brothers. The three of us love getting together to entertain our friends. Huge barbecues are one of our favorite ways to bring folks together. I miss them." Anna sighs. "Guess that's why I enjoy Sherlock and John's company. They're quite something, those two." 

Anna smiles as she reaches for a small crock full of soup spoons off to the side of her cooktop and plucks out one of the utensils. She stirs it in her pot of sauce, drags the back over the edge and offers it to Mrs. Hudson.

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2014-12/4C37F83D-4554-4E17-93D0-F256C67DBEAF_zpsbzzocvzo.jpg.html)

Anna holds her other hand under the spoon as Mrs Hudson reaches for her wrist. The expression on the kindly woman's face warms as a burst of flavors coat her tongue. She takes the spoon from Anna, runs a finger over the utensil, to collect every drop of sauce. Mrs Hudson is always pleased to taste test Anna's recipes. 

"I've never tasted anything quite like that before, Anna. You're so creative!"  
"Would you like a jar for yourself? It's no bother at all..."  
"Yes, that'd be lovely. If this keeps up I'll have little need to purchase store bought spices or sauces at all!" 

Mrs Hudson takes her tasting spoon over to the sink and gives it a quick wash. An idea occurs to Anna as she observes the thoughtful gesture.

"Mrs Hudson?"  
"Yes, dear?"  
"How would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"  
"I'd love to." she grins. "Is there anything you'd like me to bring?"  
"Bring yourself." Anna places a peck the older woman's forehead. "Let's see if the fellas can join us!" Anna winks.

Anna fetches her mobile and sends a text to John:

Free for dinner? :~)

No, but I'm reasonably cheap! JW

LoL! Bring Our Detective down for supper  
@7:30-ish? Comfy and casual. 

Looking f'wd to it. JW

Things may get messy. T-shirt and jeans? AE

Jeans! Sherlock? Srsly, Anna? JW

::pouting:: :~P

John imagined Anna poking out her bottom lip as she typed, and chuckled. Just as John's imagination began to take over, Anna sends him concrete proof:

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/35BAC114-CA88-49D2-8FB0-421CA46BF9FB_zpsaijkrwnp.jpg.html)

Those lips! ;-> JW

What about them?

Those lips could ask for anything  
they bloody well please! JW

Dr Watson... R U flirting w/me?

Oh God, YES! JW

So... Dinner? AE

Yes! We'll see you  
this evening JW

Brilliant! :~D AE

 

"Looks like we'll be four for dinner." Anna coos.  
"What fun! It's been weeks since we've all been home at the same time!" Mrs Hudson smiles.  
"I just thought I'd share some American faves of mine. Since the center plate protein will be slathered in barbecue sauce, we could be in for an interesting dining experience. I'm hoping Sherlock will be so distracted trying to figure out how I made the sauce that he won't notice that he's actually eating." Anna supposes.  
"Turning food into scientific exploration has been interesting for you, hasn't it? Wish I'd thought of it years ago! Takes all sorts, doesn't it?"  
"I suppose. The four of us are definitely all sorts. I'll give you that, Mrs H." Anna chuckles.  
The two women share a knowing smile. "Sure I shouldn't bring anything with, later on?"  
"No, but - if you'd like, you can can come early to help me with a last minute detail or two." says Anna.  
"I'll be here with bells on!" adds Mrs Hudson, with her usual enthusiasm.

Anna tries to stifle a giggle. She looks at the petite, good natured woman, and recalls being shown several YouTube videos of her landlady in her younger, wilder days.

"Anna! Have you been YouTubing with Sherlock again?!" she gasps.  
"No! I... Um... I'm not judging you at all. You shouldn't be ashamed of your wild times Mrs H. You were smokin' hot back in the day!" Anna smiles broadly.  
"Ohhh, you! Such a lovely girl..." She smoothes a hand over Anna's shoulders and leans in for a squeeze.

"See you at seven?"  
"You can count on me, luv."

Mrs Hudson buoyantly makes her exit, and Anna turns her attention to the evening's meal. As she's gathering ingredients and tools, her mobile rings.

It reads "Lightman, C" with a 202 exchange.

"Cal? Hell and NO! Not in the mood for you, guy. Voicemail for you. Buh-bye!" Anna waves at her mobile and it rings again.

"Ugh! Alright..." she relents. Anna taps her Bluetooth earpiece, and takes the call.

"Anna?! How are ya luv?" asks Cal  
"Things are going well, Cal. How're you?" Anna drones.  
"Been hearing good things back here. I'm proud of you darlin'. Might hop the pond for a little visit soon."  
"Sounds interesting."  
"Don't make that face, luv..." Cal chuckles.  
"Which one would that be, Cal. The ‘I'm busy and I'll ring you later face’, or the ‘What manner of fuckery is Cal up to now’ face?"  
"Still the same piss and vinegar, eh? Love that about you, Anna." Cal laughs.  
"Cal?" she purrs.  
"Yes, luv?"  
"What is this about?"  
"Just wanted to touch base wiv you. Let you know that you'll be seeing me soon. And, anyway... We all miss you ‘round ‘ere. It doesn't feel quite the same without you. Doesn't even smell as nice." 

Anna sighs, feeling a little guilty about the gruff tact she's taken with her boss. After all, they're friends too, right? Friends do call each other to say hello now and then.

"Oh, by the bye, darlin'... There's a monograph I'd like you to have a quick look at. I'll bring it with me when I come next week. No hurry."  
"Ladies and gentlemen, the sound you've just heard is the clatter of the other shoe as it crashes to the floor." Anna scoffs.  
"I'll be in touch. Enjoy your dinner, luv." Before Anna can respond, Cal clicks off.

Anna stares at her phone in surprise. "How the Hell did he know about dinner?" She removes her earpiece and shakes her head in sheer puzzlement.

Meal prep chugs along without a hitch so Anna decides to take a break to shower and change. She riffles through a drawer or two before deciding on a comfy t-shirt and jeans. She pulls her hair off her neck, clamps it loosely to the top of her head and heads for her en suite. She turns on the shower, and hums happily as she holds a hand under the water as it warms. Once under the water she eyes all of her various body wash choices and goes with something rather conventional. Before soaping a flannel, she allows warm water and scented bubbles cascade down her firm curves, as she washes and rinses her hair. Anna gives herself the once over and notes that her toes are in need of maintenance. 'Gurl! Look at your toes! Eww!' She crinkles her nose and admonishes herself as she notices chipped toenail polish. She also removes her toe rings, gives them a quick wash and replaces them. 

After wringing the moisture from her hair, she grabs a microfiber head wrap and puts her hair up while going through the rest of her routine. Anna spreads out a towel on the end of her bed and gleefully flings herself at it. She reaches for her gathered supplies and goes about freshening the polish on her toes. When finished, she tosses the used cotton balls and wipes into the bin near her bed by arching her wrist and hitting it dead center. The perfect layup! "BANG! Nuttin' but net!" she giggles. She pulls her knees to her chest and wiggles her toes as the polish dries. The timer on the stove dings and Anna springs into action. She places a toe separator on each foot, wraps herself in a fuchsia spa wrap, and walks on her heels out to the kitchen. She opens the cover of her stove top smoker and sets the rested meat on a cutting board. After determining the direction of the grain, she deftly cuts across it to create one inch cubes. While placing her cubes into the waiting sauce, Anna startles slightly at the appearance of Sherlock in her living room. He's dressed very casually; wearing dark jeans, a chambray shirt and... trainers?

"Omigosh! Does anybody knock around here?!" Anna gasps.  
"Your door was open, so I just came in..." Sherlock points behind him.  
He notices that Anna is clad only in a spa wrap, and quirks a brief sideways grin.  
"I saw that, Holmes. Lasted less than a second, but it didn't get past me!" She winks. Sherlock looks at her sheepishly as he clears his throat and begins to speak:  
"The aroma of what you're cooking smells amazing! We can smell it at the top of the stairs. I know I'm early, but I thought I might be of some assistance."  
"Lemme get dressed, and we'll find something to keep you busy" she smiles over her shoulder as she walks on her heels back into her bedroom. 

Sherlock discerns the rustling of fabric and the placement of objects on solid surfaces. He hears the squish of lotion leaving a container and chuckles to himself. While he waits, he inspects her stovetop smoker. Finding himself absolutely fascinated by the contraption, he pulls it apart as he tries to view its inner workings. Sherlock's nearly childlike curiosity leads him to conclude that he must have one for himself. "Where does she get these wonderful toys!?" He muses. 

Just as Sherlock's exploration of her cooking equipment concludes, Anna reappears casually clad, and smelling terrific. She greets Sherlock properly just before putting him to work. 

"Ver-y nice, Holmes. Hope you don't get upset if you get a splash or two of sauce on your lovely chambray shirt." she purrs. Sherlock returns her smile, with a raised brow and a grin. 

Sherlock follows her around as she flits from one task to the next, almost crowding her. He stops inches behind her to watch her chopping, stirring and arranging. Anna pivots to reach into a refrigerated drawer to retrieve ingredients for lemonade and runs smack into Sherlock. 

"Okay, lookit... If you're gonna be sharing my personal space, we might as well be dancing!" Anna laughs.

Anna fetches her tablet and and scrolls through the music library. She finds a song suitable for the occasion, chooses repeat and fastens the device to a speaker dock. 

"When The Levee Breaks" fills her flat, and Anna coaxes Sherlock into sharing a dance.  
"Let Bonham's stanky primal groove seep in 'til ya feel it in your hips!"

Anna crooks her finger at Sherlock as she rolls her hips to the music. She grabs one of his belt loops and pulls the tall man closer.  
"Get over here you! Follow me! I know you can!" 

She swings her hips slowly in time to the beat. He looks at his feet with some confusion, prompting a recommendation from Anna:  
"Sherlock! Stop counting! Don't think about the beat... FEEL IT!" 

Sherlock is absolutely enthralled, and tries his best to replace the mathematical logic of the time signature with movement, and let the rhythm take him where it will. As his feelings of awkwardness ebb away he allows himself to be transported out of his mind palace by Anna's free spirited encouragement. Just as he's making progress, a timer buzzes reminding Anna to remove her corn muffins from the oven.  
"Keep movin' you're just getting out of your head! I'll be right back after I set out the muffins to cool." 

Sherlock shoves his hands in his pockets nervously, but continues move - albeit stiffly - with the music. Anna looks up from her muffins, and smiles broadly at Sherlock, quite proud of the progress he's made in such a short time. Anna decides to reward him with a preview of her handiwork. She takes one of her mini-muffins from their serving platter, purses her lips and gently blows on it to cool it before sharing it with Sherlock. He crinkles the top of his nose, but allows Anna to pop the tiny treat right into his mouth. 

"Ohhh! That is too good by far! What's in those, Anna? It's sweet, but savory. A little spicy? What a perfect little mouthful! May I have another?"  
"For you? Of course." Anna tingles with delight. 

Sherlock is actually letting her feed him! Any opportunity she has to feed the querulous man without protracted negotiations is not to be missed. She scampers across the room to steal another muffin from her carefully disheveled arrangement. When Anna offers him the muffin, he strokes the back of her hand with his fingertips as she reaches for his mouth. A palpable energy passes between them and they stand toe to toe as Sherlock consumes the muffin in one bite.  
The room is quiet except ambient noises and the song that Anna had chosen moments before. Etta James soulful rendition of "Rock Me Baby". Sherlock looks deep into Anna's eyes with an air of mischief. He reaches out with a forefinger and taps the end of her nose. 

"BOOP!" he chuckles in a rumbly baritone. Anna's eyes light up and she giggles girlishly.  
"Well played!" she grins. 

Sherlock sweeps Anna into an under arm turn, a whisk and launches into a perfectly timed two-step. Anna feels giddy and takes great pleasure in sharing such a whimsical moment with usually staid man.

ooo~0~ooo

Anna and Sherlock dance blithely around her flat, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Sherlock looks down and to the left; twirls Anna, smiles, then looks up and to the right - all without pausing once. Of course Anna observes the entire unspoken transaction, and finds it remarkable that the detective has access to so many brain processes in rapid fire succession.

"You're back in your head a bit, aren't you?" she intuits.  
He nods.  
"Busted. You are... Share with the class, Sherlock" Anna makes her request while executing a nearly perfect right shoulder pass. 

"Do you realize that we've just traversed the length of your flat, cycled through three wildly varying dance styles while deftly avoiding every piece of furniture in our path dancing to one song without any prior agreement to do so?" Sherlock enthuses.  
"Don't change the subject" Anna says, as they do-si-do.  
"I'm... not" he pouts.

"It looked like you were rearranging the rooms of your Mind Palace for a moment. Then, you looked at me and smiled. So, what's goin' on in that big ol' brain of yours?" she asks, in a very kittenish tone.

Sherlock hesitates for a moment, but decides to clue Anna in on just how astute her perception of his expressions have been.

"Well, I think it's entirely appropriate for me to add a state of the art dance studio to my Mind Palace, for future reference." he grins.  
"Thanks Sherlock. It's probably the finest rehearsal studio imaginable." she chortles.  
"Sprung flooring, glassless mirrors with a double mounted barre, ITI Audio sound system, natural lighting streaming in from floor to ceiling windows, and... erm..."  
"What! Don't keep me in suspense, you clod!" She jokes, as she smacks his shoulder.  
"An observation area with one way glass, where I could watch you dance without disturbing your work. I've not yet had the privilege of watching you dance in pointe shoes, Anna. I wouldn't want to be a distraction." He blushes and the tops of his ears turn bright red.

"ITI Audio? Someone's been doing their research! One of the coolest clubs in DC uses them!" she nearly squeals with delight. "By-the-bye: My studio at home doesn't have one way glass. Know why?"  
Sherlock shrugs, and shakes his head.  
"Because I'm a big ol' showoff, and love when people watch me dance. I feel the same in dance shoes as you feel at a lab bench. I am in my element. It's my happy place, if you will. You get that, don't you?"  
Sherlock's eyes light up, and he smiles lightly.  
"Of course you do. Genius, Sherlock... Takes one to know one!"  
"Oh no. You're not going to..."  
"No. I'm not. But, I am gonna hug you, while you pull a face, and squirm to get away." Anna winks.  
"You are good. How..."  
"Shut up and hug me. Don't over-analise the moment. Just let it happen." She joshes.

Anna's earthy chuckle fills Sherlock's ears as she grabs him and squishes him into a bear hug. As predicted, he squirms a little, though much less than expected. Before he can decide whether to give up the ghost and hug back or continue to resist, a set of footfalls on Anna's stairs command their attention. They look at each other curiously, as they try to make out to whom they belong.

Simultaneously, they both guess "Mrs Hudson!"  
"Yes, and an unknown male. Tall-ish. Average foot size. Unfamiliar with your flat. So, not Lestrade..." reckons the detective.  
"Not Mycroft, either" adds Anna.

Before they can make another guess, Mrs Hudson taps on Anna's door, almost apologetically.

"Yoo-hoo! Anna?... This nice gentleman is looking for you. He says he's from DC and that he knows your boss."

Mrs Hudson enters, looking behind her at the stranger from DC. Anna'a back is to the door, and Sherlock's chin is resting on her shoulder. 

"Anna Eberhardt! How are ya doll?!" Says the stranger, with a grin.

Sherlock's posture stiffens immediately. Anna turns toward the familiar voice.  
"Fox? What the hell are you doin' here?" she wonders aloud.  
"Cal asked me to look in on you."  
"Umm, Sher-Sherlock? Meet Fox Mulder" She says nearly flustered.

"WOW! Fox. Wha?..." she shakes her head.  
"You haven't been on the website lately, have you? Cal added my bio last week. With you unavailable, Cal needed to call in the second string. Ta-dah! It's me baby!" 

His unwelcome intrusion aside, Sherlock bristles at the overly familiar way he addresses Anna. He glowers and furrows his brow as he gives Mulder the once over. 

"You're 'filling in' for me? I can't wrap my brain around that concept. No. Just...NO! There must be several major set pieces missing. What aren't you telling me?" 

"More on that later. In private?" he shrugs.  
"No. You can tell me now, or you can hit the bricks." Anna huffs. 

"First, send the geek and what's her face on their way, then we can talk."

Sherlock trudges over to Mrs Hudson and places an arm around her. She pats his hand as she watches the standoff between Anna and Fox continue. 

"You amaze me. You've come to my home, unannounced and un-damned-welcomed and insulted my friends, to boot. If you have something to say to me, you'll say it right damned now." She growls through clenched teeth. Mrs Hudson shudders, having never seen this side of the behaviorist before.

"Chillax, Boo!" says Mulder with a smirk. "Sol Guuuud, baby girl!" He continues in his irreverent style.

Anna's eyes darken. She steps toward Mulder and asks: "What did you just call me?" 

"Lighten uhhh!..." 

Anna grabs Mulder's wrist, twists his forearm and spins him down to the floor, into a heap. She kneels over him and softly admonishes him to "Stay down, bitch." 

"Jesus, Anna. What was that for? SHIT! You broke my effin' arm!" He groans.  
"Just a reminder, my name is Anna and her name is Mrs Hudson. SAY IT!"  
"Missus... Ahh! Owww!" he whines.  
"That 'geek' is my friend, neighbor and a colleague, by the way."  
"Yeah, I kinda get that..."  


John appears in the doorway to witness the aftermath of Anna's outburst. Mrs Hudson places both of her hands over her mouth and gasps. Sherlock comforts her, but takes in the scene with a certain degree of satisfaction. 

John walks over to Anna and squeezes her shoulder. He crouches to attend Mulder's injury and makes a pronouncement as the man writhes in pain.

"It's not broken, you twat. It's only a sprain. By the way- good job, Anna."  
"Thank you, Dr. Watson." she grins wickedly.  
"Ugggh! It must be broken. Look at it man!" Mulder whines.

"I. Am. A. Doctor. So, I'd know the difference between a break, and a sprain. THIS... is a sprain" says John very pointedly. 

John stands and turns to Anna "Do you have a first aid kit?"  
"Yes, but couldn't you use a compression sleeve? I've got an arm sleeve and a forearm guard. You're welcome to either, or both."  
"Could you fetch up the arm sleeve, please? Thanks."  
"Sure..." Anna disappears into her bedroom and returns promptly with the compression sleeve.

John tends to Mulder's arm very gingerly, if not professionally. He gently places the deftly swaddled arm across his chest; stands, placing hands on hips as he gazes down at the man.

Anna thanks John by placing a very platonic peck on the shell of his ear. He nods and smiles. Sherlock stands silently fuming, as he processes the gesture. Mrs Hudson breathes a long cleansing sigh, and leans into Sherlock. 

Mulder sits up to inspect his forearm. He glares at Anna, then John. She shakes her head slowly and narrows her eyes as if warning him to think before speaking.

 

"Something smells really good. I'm straving. What's for dinner." Fox chuckles derisively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More detailed notes after finishing the chapter in toto.


	7. Myc Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna is recharging her batteries when cordially invited by Mycroft to join him for a little discussion at his office.

Anna feels the slight but persistent vibration of her mobile, and decides to answer it. It's Mycroft, sending a text. 

Before responding, she yells below her: "STOP!"  
A deep silky voice replies: "Belay ON!" 

Anna braces herself and smiles down at her climbing partner. While she attends to other matters, he looks up to take in the sight of her long beautiful legs and glorious bum hovering above him. She turns her attentions to her impatient caller via a salvo of text messages:

Need to chat  
Very Important  
MH

Kinda busy  
Ping me back 1hr  
ƸӜƷ

Sorry to disturb your outing  
This is a request of some  
import Sending a car  
MH 

Charming...  
How could I ever refuse  
ƸӜƷ

You cannot  
MH

Anna screws her eyes shut and shakes her head. She shuts off her mobile, and prepares to descend with a typical call and response.

"Rappelling!" she shouts.  
"Rappel ON!"  
"Belay?"  
"Belay On!"

She leap frogs backward over hand holds until she reaches solid ground. She turns to her partner and smiles.

"Belay Off?" she coos.  
"Off belay..." He raises an eyebrow and smiles. 

"Hold this for me, will you?" Anna claps the excess chalk from her hands, takes off her cap and shakes out her hair. She twists her hair, and produces a clip, pinning her hair neatly off her neck. She leaves a bit loose on top. The effect is a neat roll with riotous cascades of curls that create a rather sassy, unconventional, updo.

"Sorry to cut this short. Hope we get to do this again, sooner rather than later." she smiles.  
"I had a wonderful time. Thank you for inviting me. I'd never have thought of indoor rock climbing."  
"I pledged to encourage you to not stay cooped up on campus. Keeping my word has never been this much fun." She looks directly into the sparkly eyes of her companion, he looks away for a beat, but returns her gaze with a dazzling smile. 

"Oh! Let's not forget..." Anna clears her throat. "Off Rope?" She unhooks the harness and rigging, divests herself of entire set up and hands the equipment to her partner for the day, Patrick Watts. 

"You'll see that these are returned, won't you, please...?" She asks coquettishly.  
"I... Ummm... Yes! Yes, I absolutely will!" he states, emphatically.  
"Thanks again for a lovely day. I really appreciate you learning the American climbing jargon. That made things easier for me today, interruption notwithstanding. That call... I'm really sorry. My chariot awaits. Please call me so we can go over our latest work. ‘Til then?" She winks.  
"Yes, I will be in touch." He quirks his chin and nods.  
Anna picks up her jacket and heads for the exit. She quickly returns as if she'd left something undone. She pecks the shy professor on the check and turns to leave. 

A black Jaguar with dark windows sits idling at the curb when she reaches the entrance to the climbing center. A passenger door is unceremoniously flung open as the vehicle waits for her. Before she's seated she notices that there's an additional passenger inside.

"Ugh! God, no... Not you again" she grouses.  
"Nice to see you too, Anna Banana!" Chuckles Fox Mulder before he leans in for a hug.  
"Do that again, and I'll sprain the other arm too."  
"NICE ATTITUDE! What is your deal?"  
"Fox! Why do you insist on being such an effin' wanker?"  
"Cuz that's how I roll" he smirks.  
"How is William? Dana?" she asks.  
"Damn, straight for the main vein, huh?" Mulder sits back and scoffs.  
"No, I'm genuinely concerned. This creepy guy affect is covering up something pretty deep. There's no light in your eyes, Fox. If you wanna talk, I'll listen. Otherwise, can we just not do this? I was having a wonderful day before I was unceremoniously and suddenly summoned to appear before Holmes the Elder. Dunh♪-dunh♪-duh♪" she laughs, mockingly. 

"Yeah, well..." He trails off.  
"What?"she asks.  
"Cal is meeting us, too. This is pretty serious." 

Anna's expression turns cold. She immediately tries to telegraph the punch to suss out what she's walking into. 

"Something is going down, and you need to be clued in. I don't have a lot of details, and thought better of sharing those I know for certain."  
"And you knew these things the other day when you barged into my flat?!" she demands.  
He nods, and looks away.

"Next, you're gonna look at me soulfully, apologize, tell me you respect me, and value my friendship. Blah-blah-blah... Only business. Blah-blah-Blah..."  
"You scare me sometimes."  
"I don't see why. It's not a superpower. Just good old fashioned intuition, and a little foreknowledge of your conversational style, Fox." Anna is disappointed, and letting her friend know is not fun, or easy.

"What is it?" she wonders.  
"What do you mean, Anna..."  
"What is it about Cal that made you sell out? You've become a bad version of yourself, Mulder. I've known you since I was an undergrad. Your quirky bad-assery is the reason I wanted to become a behaviorist. How many lunches did we have when you were trying to recruit me? What ever happened to _Spoooky Mulder_ , true believer?"  
"He grew the hell up. Fatherhood does that. So does middle age. The truth is still out there. More than that? It... the truth - has not changed. The internet puts it all right in your face. Those websites espousing crackpot, wing nut theories? The blogs? Most of the whack-ass sponsored content literally on the fringe of legitimate posts? I know you've seen it, Anna. Probably scoffed at it and dismissed it as ridiculous. That's what they want you to do. Don't become another sheeple, think for yourself. "

"HA! That's the Fox I've come to admire. So Passionate. And unbearably brilliant." she sighs. "Your whole bearing changed just then, ya know. The lights are on, Fox is home!"  
"You're an idealist, Anna. You're still young enough that..."  
"I'm a woman in her thirties, Fox. I'm new to academia, but society says I'm not a youngster. Conventional wisdom would have me paired off, raising younglings and still pursuing a demanding career. I don't know if I'm cut out for that."

Mulder laughs. Crow's feet frame his eyes as he chuckles. "Get back to me after you turn thirty-five. You'll cross that magic rubicon where everything becomes urgent. The weight of those exigencies suddenly become almost palpable." He cogently explains.  
"Nope. Hold it right there." She shakes her head. "It's not the load. It's how you carry it."  
“I know the difference between expectation and hope, Anna" He states, very earnestly.  
"I imagine you do..." she acknowledges.

The car comes to a stop. The driver removes himself from behind the wheel and opens Anna's door for her. Mulder joins her and both are ushered inside by a nearly faceless man straight to the outer office of Mycroft Holmes. Anthea sits at her desk, legs crossed, preoccupied with her smart phone. She reaches beneath her desk to manipulate an unseen object that opens the office door. Anna and Mulder exchange glances. He gestures that she should enter first, and she does, with him following closely. Anna picks up on the jovial mood in the air, though Cal and Mycroft both attempt to conceal the nature of their dealings.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Eberhardt. How kind of you to join us." says Mycroft.  
"Good? That remains to be seen, hmm?..." Anna responds.  
"So sorry to have interrupted your little outing. But your presence is vital."  
"So you've said."  
"Anna, here's that monograph, luv." Cal hands her a neatly bound document.

Anna looks at the cover of the document, but before she can formulate a question or reply, Anthea breezes in with an accordion file. She passes it to Mycroft, who opens it to retrieve several pieces of paper and a series of photographs.  
"I've come to understand that you've immersed yourself into campus life at UCL of late. You are to be commended. There is, however a guest lecturer in your department of some note this semester. Have you come across this woman in your travels, Anna?" Mycroft holds up a photograph.  
"Wait. That's..." Anna looks down at the monograph given to her by Cal.  
"You must have come into contact with her. Her seminars are nearly as popular as yours."  
"Can we cut to the chase?" Anna requests.  
"Anna, you wrote your first monograph on the psychopathy prevalent in pop culture. One of the examples you cited was the guest lecturer in question, Catherine Tramell." Cal adds. A flash of worry appears on his brow before he remembers to try his best not to display his emotions in front of such an astute acolyte.  
"Her novels are written under the pseudonym Catherine Woolf. And... All of her fictional writing have an uncanny way of divulging, or revealing elements of crimes that only the doer would know."

"Quite correct, my friend." Mycroft rudely interjects. "But she's gone high tech lately. She's become a popular writer of Fan Fiction. Her primary "pseud" is CeeWoolf61. Her latest tale is a bit troubling."

"Has what to do with me, exactly?" Anna shrugs. 

"Seems her new series stars a woman of color called Andi who has come to study and lecture abroad. She's a psychology fellow who shares a house whose denizens include: an elderly landlady, an Afghan war veteran, and the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra. The concertmaster moonlights as a forensic consultant to The Met. So far, her adventures have been rather mundane, verging on comical."

"Not seeing a problem, Mycroft." Anna snorts her reply, but in actuality, she's deeply concerned. Surely something this banal would not be on the radar of The British Government. 

Anna fishes around in her jacket pocket. She pulls out a small, flat stainless steel compact, and opens it. She removes an object, places it between her lips and takes a long smooth draw. A purple indicator light glows from the end as she exhales a thick puff of vaguely tobacco scented mist.  
"Anna dear... What are you doing?" Mycroft asks, seemingly puzzled.  
"Vaping." her curt reply.  
"There's no smoking of any kind allowed, I'm afraid."  
"What're you gonna do? Arrest me?" she scoffs.  
"Absolutely not. Shall we continue?"  
"Yes, please." Anna exhales another puff of mist and directs a ring at Mycroft's nose.

Mycroft waves his hand in front of his face and coughs.

"Ms Tramell's new stories bear an uncanny if thinly veiled similarity to you, my brother, Doctor Watson and Mrs Hudson. If this were the sum total of her machinations, none of you would be here today."  
"Yeah. Long winded much, Mycroft? Look, Anna..." Cal chimes in. "The upshot is this - in her new literary venture the residents of this allegedly make believe scenario are being picked off one by one in increasingly gruesome ways."

Fox turns to face Anna, leans around Cal to speak directly to her. "Anna, I've read her stuff, too. Some of the earlier stories. And even some of the web based stories like the one about the Footballer, the Detective Inspector and the Shrink. One of her best fics is about the Congressman from the Carolinas who stages the death of a fellow house member and has a reporter killed by being pushed into the path of a speeding Metrorail train. That one piqued the bureau's interest. But not _officially_." Fox derisively uses air quotes before continuing "That's where Cal comes into the picture."

Anna's eyes widen and her face goes slack. She stops vaping long enough to look accusingly at the men assembled around her. "Are you joking me? Any one of you can answer. Don't worry, _I'll wait..._ " Anna insists.

"Anna, luv - we didn't know she'd escalate in this way when you arrived here. No one had any idea that she had you in her sights. Inventing fresh new crimes that haven't occurred, using her fan fiction as a guise to hide in plain sight is a twist that we'd not accounted for." Cal blurts. 

"What do you mean _hadn't accounted for_? Did you bring me here to use as a floater?" She looks at Mycroft, then back to Cal. _What in the wide-wide world of sports have you done?! You arrogant fucking twot!_ She muses, quite angrily. "So, it was never about your cruel little side bet after all. You knew I'd figure out the set piece about the wager. It was a false flag all along." Anna deduces.

Cal and Mycroft share a furtive glance, and scramble to concoct a plausible, guilt free explanation on the fly. Mycroft speaks first, believing he can find the verbiage to diffuse her growing mistrust and anger. 

"Yes, Anna... we created this opportunity for you. Purposefully placing you at UCL and in Baker Street, but our main focus was entirely different." Cal reluctantly admits.  
"Ms. Tramell has been quite the busy little bee since arriving in London. My true focus is to determine what connection if any, she has to Jim Moriarty." Mycroft's answer assumes a small degree of exculpation. Of course, he misses the mark entirely with Anna.

 

"She could be targeting Sherlock, and the rest of you would simply be collateral damage. Another possibility is that she's in league with someone else, though it's just as likely she's having a go for her own amusement. She's brilliant. She's nearly a textbook narcissist, with psychotic underpinnings. Charming. Clever. Needy, and remorseless." Cal's voice trails off, and he looks away. His brow furrows. He sweeps his dominant hand over his mouth, pats his cheek, then looks up and to the right. 

It occurs to him in this instant that he's placed a valued colleague and friend squarely in the path of a seasoned psychopath by dint of his need to show off for Mycroft. _I'll see your introverted genius, and raise you my sexy smart genius. He won't be able to resist her, or at the very least - she'll drive him to absolute distraction_. A bargain was struck, and in the same instance, a wager was made. He'd completely underestimated how icy Mycroft can be. He knew damned well that the man plays his cards very close to the chest, and that dangling his own brother as bait wouldn't trouble him in the slightest if he believed that the balance of probability was on his side. He chose to play this game with Mycroft, and now has to extricate the four souls on Baker Street from the tangled web he'd woven. 

Anna slumps in her chair as she struggles to make sense of what she's learned. Deciding that there is no reasonable explanation, she staves off her growing mistrust by focusing on the present moment. She thinks of her favorite song and chuckles mirthlessly. _Cryin' won't help me, prayin’ won't do me no good..._

She turns to Mycroft and mutters "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You fetched me down from a rock wall to bring me here for this?!" She shakes her head. "Now I fully understand why they call you **_The Iceman_** , Mycroft. You are one cold hearted bastard."

Mycroft surveys Anna with dispassion, and blandly states: "My dear Doctor Eberhardt, let us be absolutely clear. The truth has no temperature..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will fill in notes later. (Damnable SPELL CHECK!!)
> 
>  
> 
> *Floater-  
> A person used one time, occasionally, or even unknowingly for an intelligence operation
> 
> Language of Espionage · International Spy Museum  
> http://www.spymuseum.org/education-programs/news-books-briefings/language-of-espionage/#F


	8. The Mouths of Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock pay a visit to Anna's flat, and meet her niece via video chat. Even in fanfic - kids say the darndest things!

"John, can you bring down some herbs from the Earthbox, please?" Anna coos playfully.  
"Yours, or Sherlock's?" He snickers.  
"C'mon... Do you really need to ask?! Have you seen that morass of God-knows-what lately? I think he's using it to study decomp, instead of growing our salad veggies."  
"At least he's not storing boxes of dirt and decaying thumbs in our fridge." John chuckles. "Which herbs would you like?"  
"A sprig of rosemary, some oregano and a little thyme. Please..." She makes the request in her smokiest mezzo, and chuckles softly as she ends the call.

Anna's earthy chuckle makes John smile, and spurs him into action. _Those lips..._ He muses as he makes his way to the kitchen to find the herb snips that Anna gifted him. Once found, he walks across the room to the open the window and access Anna's Earthbox. He looks over the plants very carefully, and chooses the best leaves and sprigs he can find. He closes the window, lifts the cuttings to his nose, and inhales deeply. As John prepares to leave 221B, Sherlock enters the sitting room from his bedroom, makes a deduction, and offers up suggestions.

"John? Are those for Anna?" Sherlock inquires.  
"Yes. I'm taking them to her right now. Why do you ask?"  
"That specific combination would tend to indicate an Italian dish of some sort. Given the time of day, I surmise that she is cooking something from scratch that is very labor intensive. Please take the time to inquire about her state of mind when you see her. Something must be troubling her, John."  
"You got all that, from a simple bundle of herbs?!" John looks upon his friend, duly impressed.  
"John, Anna is a woman who enjoys every aspect if cooking. She would ordinarily take great pleasure in selecting the herbs for herself, as it is an integral element in good cooking. Though basic, the quality of a dish begins with its most rudimentary underpinnings. As usual, you see but you don't observe. She would also use the task of harvesting her herbs to check on her plants, and indulge in a short chat with one or both of us."

Sherlock barely stops for a breath before continuing.

"The fact that she passed the task on to you indicates that she is troubled by something, perhaps due to her visit with Mycroft. She's been a bit uneasy of late, and this meal is her way of sublimating her anger productively. Since you were chosen to perform the task, it is incumbent upon you to provide a sort of wellness check. She needs to know that we are available for her, just as she's been for us."

"Don't you think the request itself is her way of reaching out, Sherlock?"  
"Question, John. What is she cooking?" Sherlock challenges  
"I don't know." shrugs John.  
"What time will she be serving this meal? Are we invited to join her? Will she be dining alone or will she be having company?"  
"I. Don't. Know." John huffs through clenched teeth. "Your point is made, Sherlock. Please let me deliver the herb bundle now"

Sherlock steps aside, allowing to John pass.

"You know, John... Anna enjoys sharing, and she's been in her shell quite a bit lately."  
"Point taken. Would you like to take these down to her instead, Sherlock?"  
"No." he pouts. "She asked for you. There must be a reason."  
"What if we go downstairs go together, Sherlock? Would you like that? You can check on her yourself, and make all of your deductions empirically."  
"Yes. I think that'd be the most prudent and considerate course of action." Sherlock agrees.

The Doctor and the Detective move to put their plan into action. John wraps the ends of the herbs in a damp paper towel, and the two men head down the stairs. When they reach 221C, they find Anna sitting on her sofa, hunched over the glare of her tablet, hands clasped to her face, eyes filled with tears. A small voice is heard coming from the speaker of the device. The two men swoop in, not knowing what to make of what they're witnessing. At first blush, Anna appears to be having a moment of upset. 

"Anna?..." Sherlock asks quietly, in his lower register.  
"Hmm? Oh. Hey, Wils." she sniffles.

John steps around Sherlock, bundle of herbs in hand. He walks over to Anna, and immediately smoothes a hand up and down her back. "What's going on, luv?"  
He turns to view her tablet, and sees Anna's niece Marley, singing to her Aunt. "Is that your niece? What a sweetheart!" John beams. Anna turns down the volume to explain the context of what they've stumbled upon. 

"We're Skyping..." she sniffles. "And she thought I needed cheering up, so started singing to me. _In perfect latin!_ Her diction is flawless. She's so smart, and I miss her so much. I'm an absolute wreck right now. Sorry guys."

Anna turns up the speaker to hear Marley finish singing “Pie Jesu” very sweetly. John sits on the arm of the sofa, and Sherlock crosses the room to stand near John. 

"You don't mind, do you?" John gestures toward the tablet screen  
"No, not at all." She gives her permission with a brief nod.  
When her niece finishes, they applaud politely and compliment the child on her lovely voice.

"Auntie? Is that Mr Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson? Can I say hi?" Marley chirps.  
Sherlock reaches down and turns the tablet toward him. He leans in to speak, as Marley giggles, and claps with delight.  
"Hello Mr Holmes! My name is Marley Eberhardt. You live upstairs, right?"  
"Please, Mr Holmes is my brother..."  
Anna and John fistbump and laugh as they whisper "Mycroft!" Sherlock quirks a brow and glares at them before continuing. "I would appreciate very much if you would call me Sherlock."  
"Auntie?" Marley seeks Anna's approval.  
"Yes, sweetie, it's fine..."  
Sherlock smiles at the tablet screen, then at Anna. While Anna and Sherlock are occupied with Marley, John decides to putter around briefly in the kitchen. He places the herbs in a glass, with just enough water to cover the cut ends, then holds up the glass to admire his handiwork and sets the glass on the counter before returning to the sofa. Pleased with his good deed, John crosses a leg toward Anna and Sherlock after he takes his seat. He pats Anna on the knee, and she reflexively reciprocates. 

"Auntie Anna? Where's Doctor Watson?" Anna turns the tablet toward John. He waves and smiles. "Hullo there, Marley! Nice to meet you!" Marley giggles and waves back.  
"Ya know what, Auntie? You were right!"  
"About what?"  
"They're really nice, and good looking too. Are they gonna come with you when you visit home? Y'all can sit together on the plane."  
"Marley!! I... Umm, hadn't asked them yet sweetie." Anna chuckles uncomfortably. John and Sherlock exchange a puzzled glance and shrug.

"Can I ask them? People say I'm very persuasive." Marley folds her arms across her chest and waits for Anna to respond.  
"You sure are, sweetie."  
"Auntie, will you sing to me now?"  
"I... don't know about that. Next time, okay?" Anna waves her hands at the camera eye.  
"Please, Auntie? _Pleeeeze?"_

"Yes, please. _Auntie Anna..._ " says Sherlock in a squeaky childlike voice. John's eyes light up as he laughs at Sherlock's spot on imitation of Anna's niece.

"Okay, just one. And then I've gotta get dinner started."  
"Will you sing the one about getting home? I like that one. It's sad, but it's really pretty when you sing it."  
"Sure, baby. Whatever you want. Wait... Just a minute, sweetie." Anna eyes well up and torrents of tears cascade down her cheeks. She closes her eyes, and wipes her face with her shirt.  
"Are you okay, Auntie? Please don't cry." Marley attempts to soothe her aunt, but does not back away from her request. Both John and Sherlock smooth their hands on one of Anna's shoulders. John ghosts a thumb over her cheek and flicks away a tear. He squeezes her shoulder, the leaves the living room for the kitchen. He returns with a tea towel, blots her tears away and hands her the towel. Sherlock narrows his eyes at John, who makes a tick mark in the air and winks.

"Thank-you John." She dabs her eyes, and then she turns to Sherlock and pats his hand. He looks over at John, blinks and nods.  
"Okay, Marley." Anna swallows hard, and softly begins to sing “Get Here” a cappella.  
Part way through, she begins to belt it out. She throws her arms open wide then clutches her hands over her heart as she sings. When she's done, there is complete silence. The doctor and the detective are both a little misty, having witnessed such a tender moment between Anna and her young niece. Marley breaks the spell by thanking her aunt.

"Thank-you Auntie! I miss you soooo much! Can't wait to see you. Every time I think of you or wish I could hug you, I make a heart and put it in my box of hugs. It's getting kinda full. So, you're gonna come get it really soon. Right?"

Anna sniffles through her reply: "Yeah, baby. Real soon. Just a few weeks away..."  
"Hey Sherlock?"  
He clears his throat, blinks to clear his misty eyes, and looks into the camera."Yes?"  
"You're comin' too, right? And you too, Doctor Watson? Y'all can stay here at my Mommy and Daddy's house. You can teach my brother some bad-assery."  
Anna gasps.  
"Dr Watson? My Auntie said you could give a few lessons in being a B-A-M-F because you walk it like you talk it 24/7. Do you sleep, Doctor Watson? Cuz being awesome all the time must be hard work. Betcha you're really tired." Sherlock roars with laughter, John looks bemused, and Anna tried her best to not look mortified, her cheeks having turned a deep shade of fuchsia.

"Well. Alrighty, then..." Anna interrupts before the child can blurt out anything else reavealing.  
"Nice to have met you, Marley. I look forward to seeing you at your home in Washington. With your Aunt." Sherlock waves good-bye to the talkative youngster.  
"I... Erm... Uh, nice to meet you Marley. It's been... nice chatting to you." John scrubs a hand over his head, pulls a face, and mouths the word " _WOW!_ "

"I love you with both of my hearts." Anna puts her fingers together to make a heart, and places it over her left bosom. She smiles, and sighs.

"Love. You. MORE!!" Marley giggles.

Anna reaches toward the screen with a forefinger and touches the spot where Marley's nose appears. "BOOP! Gotcha!" They both giggle.

"Talk to you soon, beloved. Buh-bye..." All three wave good bye to Marley.  
"Bye!" Marley kisses the camera and ends the session.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20Jan/8C933538-AC60-4F1F-9472-E4CE0B0EAEF0_zpshuviird5.jpg.html)  


So, dinner? Let's get to it!" Anna stands and stretches.  
"Wait, Anna... You're planning a visit back home?" asks John.  
"Yes. There's a reading week in the offing, and I really need a break. And if you both could join me, that'd be tremendous!" She smiles.  
"Washington DC? Think of the possibilities, John! I for one would be delighted to jet across the pond for a short holiday." Sherlock steeples his fingers and taps his forefingers.  
"John? Can you take time away from the surgery?"Anna asks.  
"We could all do with a short break. I'll need to check the schedule and request the time off..." Before John can comple his thought, Sherlock interrupts him.  
"You have more than enough vacation time to spare, John. You never use it. A quick call to Mycroft could set things into motion. He owes us a favor or two." announces Sherlock.  
"I'm sure there'd be more than enough to keep you from boredom. Especially you, Sherlock. My best friend works at BARC, in argricultural genomics. Betcha she'd love to give you a tour!"  
"Fascinating." Sherlock's eyes sparkle devilishly.  


John looks deep in thought. He looks up and to the right, scrunches his face, then looks down and to the left. He looks over at Sherlock, and narrows his eyes.  
John's facial histrionics do not pass without notice. "Ooo! I saw that, John. Baskerville feels, huh?" He nods.  
"If he decides to take a tour of BARC, we don't have to go with him. There are lots of other things two discerning medical professionals can indulge in." Anna winks. Sherlock makes note of the fleeting interplay between the doctors, and scowls. 

Anna feels a surge of energy. Having noticed she's more than a bit peckish, she herds the doctor and the detective into the kitchen area to begin prepping their evening meal.

"Let's get some dinner action going on! I am famished!" says Anna, practically effervescing.  
"What symphony of culinary delight awaits us, Anna?" Sherlock asks, trying to match Anna's enthusiasm without derision.  
"Ditalini and chickpea soup, crusty bread brushed with garlic infused olive oil, accompanied by quite a lovely little Ripasso."  
"Anna, you spoil us, " John laughs.  
"Let's see how special you feel after I put you to work."  
"Captain Watson, at your service, ma'am." John places a light kiss on the back of Anna's hand and she blushes.  
"Okay guys... The soup isn't complicated, but has lots of working parts. You up for it?"  
"Absolutely, 100% YES!" John eagerly proclaims.  
"You're a good sort, John Watson." Anna smiles at John, and the tops of his ears redden. Sherlock folds his arms and pouts.  
"No pouting allowed, Sherlock!" Anna approaches the moody detective dips her head, circling him playfully. When she's toe to toe with him, she stops and reaches toward his nose with a forefinger.  
"No! Anna?!... Don't you..." protests Sherlock.  
"BOOP! Kwitcherbitchin!" She taps the end of his nose, ruffles his hair and laughs mischieviously.

Anna reaches for her iDevice, finds a playlist, and places it in a speaker dock. The music wafting through her flat gives them the zing they need to synch up and move through the individual tasks needed to create a beautiful meal. Anna delegates the tasks according to skill level. John assists with cutting, chopping, and peeling. Sherlock lends a hand with gathering, measuring, timekeeping and using the food processor. The three move about without the small space efficiently, executing each task flawlessly, in near silence. Anna has skillfully marshaled their energies until the pot is filled and the gas turned on. With the soup bubbling away on the stove, Anna shoos John and Sherlock into the living room.

She joins them moments later with three wine glasses and a bottle of 2009 Valpolicella Ripasso. She sets down the glasses and pulls a waiter style corkscrew from the front pocket of her jeans.  
"This is _almost_ my favorite part of wine drinking. I really think using a real corkscrew is kinda old school. There's something so satisfying about..." Anna stops mid sentence as she gracefully works the cork out of the bottle. She struggles to keep the cork in one piece. Once the cork gives up the ghost, it releases cleanly with only a squeak and a cheerful pop. She's nearly glowing as she starts to pour for all three. Just as she tilts the bottle, Sherlock leans forward, thoughtfully removes the bottle from her hands, and takes over pouring duties. He picks up a glass and cradles the bowl nearly seductively, and pours the wine like a master sommelier. The sound of the wine softly gurgling into the glass makes Anna very happy. Sherlock passes the first glass to her then pours for himself and John. He slides a glass toward John, and picks up the last glass for himself. Glass in hand, each of the three sniff, swirl and sip their wine. A collective sigh follows.

"Slàinte!"says John.  
"Zivio Ziveli" Sherlock deadpans.  
"Cheers, guys!" Anna coos.

"Well... To reading week?" Anna asks as she raises her glass.  
"Yes." Sherlock nods.  
"I second that!" adds John.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20Jan/146B995A-75E9-41BB-997C-109F8DB80B46_zpsy3k8lru6.jpg.html)  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HTML is giving me agita!! :~0
> 
> Pie Jesu w/lyrics  
> http://youtu.be/4_BwIxH9zKc
> 
> Get Here (with lyrics), Oleta Adams [HD]  
> http://youtu.be/XWIGu6-r67Y
> 
> http://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/ditalini-with-chickpeas-and-garlic-rosemary-oil
> 
> BARC= Beltsville Agricultural Research Center (USDA) http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_A._Wallace_Beltsville_Agricultural_Research_Center
> 
> In completely unrelated news:
> 
> ✨Huzzah✨ Found an article that touches on some of the principles behind “Anna's” theory about smell and sense memory! (w00t-w00t!! Happy Dance!!)  
> Patrick and Anna will be celebrating soon... ;~>
> 
> “Our relationship to smell is anything but simple.”
> 
> “We’re capable of detecting minute differences in smell across tiny time scales. Our brains can detect individual odor molecules. And a mere whiff can bring back obscure childhood memories that otherwise crouched in our mind’s crevices.”
> 
> “These are all powerful examples of how olfaction influences our lives on an individual level. But what if specific scents can change how we perceive and interact with others, too?”  
> Read More Here:  
> http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/next/body/trust-lavender/


	9. Bring On The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When is a date not a date?  
> When the cab ride is just long enough for John and Anna to form salacious thoughts about each other, but too short to act on them.
> 
> Somehow, they manage to make the most of their evening.

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/19026269-EBEE-4363-A302-83ABAD3F6E3C_zpssztw1ujr.jpg.html)  


"Is that what you're wearin' to that dinner thingy tonight?" Asks Anna's best friend Deanna.  
"Yeah. So?..." grouses Anna.  
"Make sure you put on sumthin' from Miss Vicky, girl."  
"Why, he's never gonna see it."  
"But I can see your braline, hunty. Jus' sayin'" Deanna informs her friend.  
"Thanks. I think..."  
"By the way... Who are you trying to pull, honey? John, or every other doctor in Greater London?" Deanna smirks and wolf whistles at her bestie.  
"It's not a date! How many times?..."  
"Mmm-hmm. If you keep saying it, you might believe it. But, I know bet-tah!" Deanna snarks in an annoying sing song.  
"This is important, Deanzie. John is giving a talk for the British Medical Association's Doctors Against Torture initiative. And Amnesty will have a presence too. It's big."  
"And of course you're just going to keep good ol’ Doc Watson company, because Sherlock won't go? I see... "

"For goodness sake Deans. If you were Sherlock, would you want to spend an evening where the subject was torture? I sure as hell wouldn't. He still doesn't talk much about what happened to him in Serbia. No fault there. I do worry about him sometimes, though. Both he and John have seen things that can't be unseen. I'm proud of John for doing this. He deserves my support. He's a badass, but also quite compassionate. And truly brilliant. Don't be fooled by that stiff upper lip, hard outer shell. He's got the heart of a warrior, but the soul of a healer."  
"He's a Cancer, so that makes sense."  
"You're a paleo botanist, and you keep up with astrology?"  
"Yeah, so? Cain't be brainy 24/7. Some of us don't carry a genius card in our wallet." Deanna clicks her tongue.  
"Was that a backhanded compliment?" chides Anna.  
"Not at all. It was dripping with snark and derision." Deanna says with a wily grin.  
"I still luuuv you, gurl!" Anna sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry at her phone.

"Back to business, Miss-missy. What are we doing for shoes?"  
"Oh. Umm, a cute little pair of kitten heel peep toe pumps. The suede ones you wanna steal."  
"No. That will not do. Not at all." Deanna clucks her disapproval.  
"I'm already four and a half inches taller than him. Heels would be ridiculous."  
"You flusterate me Anna Eberhardt!! GAH! Know why you should rock those nasty ass come and get me pumps you packed?"  
"No. But you're gonna tell me, right?"  
"Because your legs and ass will be bangin' if you wear those. One of your primary missions this night is arm candy, so do the damned thing. And do it right. Where's your lady balls? Give these stuffed shirts a reason to be jealous. You can do it. Mix up some super duper sexy scent combo. Put your hair up. Work it, girl."  
"I don't wanna steal John's thunder. I dunno..." says Anna, apprehensively.  
"On the contrary. You'd be adding to his gravitas, not subtracting from it. When they sidle up to John for a polite handshake and customary pat on the back, this gaggle of suits will be floored by you... Dr Eberhardt. Trust me. I'd never urge you to do anything that would damage your professional reputation. We both know how hard it is to be taken seriously."

Deanna advises her friend from the heart. The two women have grown up together from nerdy geeklings into polished accomplished women, and her opinion carries a lot of weight with Anna.

"You aren't some little airhead. You've got brains and looks. Use them. When John sees you, you'll know I'm right. He's gonna stand taller, and strut around with more confidence than you've ever seen. You'll see."  
"You've convinced me. But now I've gotta go so I can get ready for my debut." Anna giggles.  
"How long is this transformation going to take?" Deanna asks, full of curiosity.  
"Ages. Gotta go, or I'll make John late."  
"Okay. FaceTime me when you get home. I don't care what time it is. If you don't... I'll assume you got lucky and making breakfast for two."  
"Don't you mean three?"  
"No. I know you don't like cooking in the scuzz dump."  
"Don't talk about my fellas like that." Anna pouts.  
"When you showed me that kitchen, I nearly wept for you girl. I don't know how you and Mrs H do it. Ugh!" Deanna screws up her face and shakes her head. She knows all of her gal pal's pet peeves, and finds it nearly heroic that she'd spend any time at all in 221B - let alone John and Sherlock's unkempt kitchen  
♪Time toooo say good-bye...♪ Anna warbles.  
"Talk to you later. I'ma check your FoodSpotting feed for pics of dinner. And breakfast." Deanna chides, playfully.  
"Love you, Deanzie"  
"Mmm-wah! See ya later, honey!" Deanna blows Anna a kiss.

Deanna's pep talk has given Anna the boost she needed. She was right. This is Anna's first big opportunity to dress up since she's moved into 221 Baker Street so, this was as good an opportunity as any to vamp a little. And why not? John deserves her best. 

Having already bathed and dressed, the only thing left is hair and makeup. Anna brushes her hair back in the crown and gives a quick sweep and twist to the back length. She forms a loose bun, and gives the top of her head a quick poof for a bit of height. She pulls down a tendril on either side of her face, and inspects her handiwork. She looks at her clock and decides not to be elaborate with her colour cosmetics.  
She uses a kabuki brush to apply a couple of quick swipes of a light color over her eye from lash to brow, followed by a stroke of a darker color on the lid. The natural contour of her eyes creates a flawless and tasteful smoky eye. Then, clear lash lengthener, followed by a liquid eyeliner. Done, and done. Soft color on her cheeks from the same pot used on her lips complete the ritual. She checks her face once more, grabs her shoes and heads for the door. She scoops up her evening bag, wraps herself in a beautiful brocade cocoon jacket and slips into her shoes. She climbs the stairs to her front door, and locks it. While she waits in the wing chair by the staircase, she sends a quick salvo to Sherlock:

Off out.  
Waiting for John  
Pls eat. Dinner in fridge  
C U l8trz ƸӜƷ

Busy @ Lab  
Waiting for results  
Enjoy your date  
SH

IT's NOT A DATE  
U were invited too  
Remember? ƸӜƷ

Need lab time  
more than food  
or speeches  
SH

Hope you change  
Ur mind. John  
needs our support.  
:~|

There's no pouting allowed in texts.  
SH

I'll pout if I want.  
Pls stop by BMA house  
for coffee & pudding?  
ƸӜƷ

Might do. SH

Please, Sherlock?  
For John?  
:,,(

Crying?  
Not fair, Anna. SH

All is fair in  
love & txtng  
ƸӜƷ

John rounds the banister just as Anna tucks her phone into her evening bag. She uncrosses her legs and prepares to stand. He rushes over to offer his hand, and to have a closer look at her. As Anna accepts John's hand, she stands gracefully, and does a twirl for him. John is looking quite dapper himself in a navy blue suit coat and trousers with a white shirt and a tie in the modern House of Edgar Watson tartan. He has a black awareness ribbon on his left lapel.  
"Anna... You look fantastic! My God, how lovely. Thank you for doing this." He steps closer to Anna clasps both of her hands and fans out her arms to get a better look. Anna pecks both of his cheeks. He offers her an arm, and they stride toward the front door of 221 Baker street. John opens the door, allowing Anna to pass first, closes and locks the door behind them. He hails a taxi and opens the door for the behaviorist with a cheeky bit of flash. Once seated inside, he gives the address to BMA House and they're off. He looks over at Anna, positively beaming. 

"Have I told you how radiant you look this evening?" He winks, turning on that good ol' Three Continents charm. 

Anna smiles broadly, if somewhat shyly. Her cheeks flood with her own natural blush, giving a lit from within glow to the colour she'd added earlier. She crosses her legs toward John and leans toward him on her hip, treating him to a wonderful view of her long beautifully smooth legs. 

The cab ride is short. Providing both with an opportunity to formulate salacious thoughts about the other, but not enough time to act on them. 

_Doc-tor Watson. Mmmm... You clean up real nice. The things I could do with you, thirty minutes and that damned tie. Not sure about those Technicolor socks, though. __Anna muses._

_Andromeda Eberhardt. I'd have you right here, if you'd let me. Oh God!, that dress. And you smell so damned good. Sooo good._ John is a tad fidgety, and bounces a little in his seat. Anna takes note of the fact that when he'd crossed his leg toward her, and angled his foot in her direction. John holds a leather portfolio over his lap, sweeping his thumb over the zipper closure and softly drumming his fingers on the cover. 

The scenery, such as it is goes by in a flash, and they arrive at the venue moments after leaving Baker Street. The cab slows to a stop at their intended destination - BMA House. Anna's eyes widen as she takes in the grandeur of the old world edifice. 

John leans forward to pay the cabbie and exits the cab. Ever the gentleman, he holds the door for Anna. Once again, he offers her a hand. Ostensibly to assist her, but also treating himself to the sight of her gorgeous pins as she slides across the seat and plants her feet on solid ground. 

True to Deanna's prediction, having Anna on his arm this night has changed John's carriage. There's a gleam in his eyes and a spring in his step that Anna has never experienced with him. Perhaps his new position as volunteer chair of Doctors Against Torture has a lot to do with his good mood. John is in his element, and he knows it. Having a brilliant, beautiful woman as his companion on this night is just the icing on the cake.

Once inside, John helps Anna take off her coat and checks it for her. When he returns, John reaches into a trouser pocket and fishes around nervously for a moment before producing a small shiny object. He playfully throws it into the air and catches it. He glides up to Anna and presents her with a pin. It's a silver plated awareness ribbon. She gasps and places her hands over her mouth.

"Oh! John... Thank you!" She smiles broadly at John and his eyes light up.  
"Please. Allow me..."

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20Jan/5B40B793-CEF0-48AA-8F2A-BBBD4330BEDF_zpsmfz6vmpo.jpg.html)  


He steps as close to Anna as he can without actually grinding into her. Not that she'd have minded at all. John thoughtfully affixes the pin while subtly ghosting the backs of his fingers over the lace of her brassiere. Just enough to make them both smile a slightly naughty smile at each other. Anna's toes curl, and she giggles. John reflexively offers his arm and the pair head for the reception area to pick up their name tags, have a cocktail and mingle before dinner

There's an open bar, but a waiter passes with a tray full of tulip shaped glasses of bubbly. Anna plucks two glasses from the tray as waiter scampers past, presenting one to John. They pause to raise their glasses and toast. John goes first.  
"To long legged women and red bottom shoes." John says with a twinkle in his eye.  
"Very nice. Ummm, let's see... To bad-assery, and sexy doctors in yummy cardigans!" adds Anna, coquettishly.  
"Cheers, John."  
"Cheers, luv!" 

They drain their glasses in two sips, and look around for refills. John relieves Anna of her empty glass, and goes in search of more. She perches herself on a banquette, and crosses her legs. She dangles her shoe from the end of her foot and massages her calves. A shadow crosses over her and she looks up in surprise to find a very dour middle aged man standing before her.

"Dr Andromeda Eberhardt, I presume." The man grouses, with a pinched look.  
Anna takes a cursory glance at his name tag, but stops at his professional affiliation. He too is from UCL.

"Please call me Anna" She politely offers him an extended hand, but he refuses to take it. He chooses instead to castigate her for attending the event.  
"Yes, well... I'm familiar with your work Dr Eberhardt. This is the last place in London I would expect you to be this evening." 

Anna looks at the man before her, completely bemused. She pauses to formulate a response, but the unpleasant man insists on continuing his speech.

"The Psy-Ops of Smell. What a novel seemingly benign torture device. You make a mockery of Dr Watson's association with these good fellows by showing your face here. The bloody cheek of you. You should turn on your heel and leave before further harm comes to the good doctor's bona fides amongst those concerned with treating victims of torture."  
"First of all, they aren't victims - they're survivors. Next, if you are truly familiar with my work then you'd know that Psy-Ops of Smell is simply a common moniker. More than that, it was formulated from behavioral standpoint and used as an investigative tool. I've made my bones helping law enforcement find lost children, put away murderers and flush out a scammer or two."

The man stands before her unmoved by her passionate testimony. John arrives with newly filled glasses, and walks into a buzzsaw. John hands Anna her drink, and takes her side, as he attempts to suss out what's happened in his absence.

_"Anna, what's going on here?"_  
"I'm quite wrongly being called on the carpet for assisting in torture is what it sounds like."  
"No? No. You're messin' me about, yeah? How could anybody..."

John stops mid-sentence when he intuits the seriousness of the conversation that has passed between Anna and the officious interloper. John hands Anna his glass, and steps between her and her accuser. His eyes go dark and he speaks through clenched teeth.

"Now, you look here... I don't know who you are." John stops to read the name tag: Dr Louis Zherr MD of UCL Central London "You've got no right to impugn the character of this lady. She is a lecturer, a behaviorist and assists law enforcement with her skills. She is talented, and dedicated to the cause we are all here to support tonight. Did you know that among some of the things she has accomplished, her theory about smell has helped the newly blind navigate through their daily lives and be able to become more self sufficient? I'm sure you didn't. I won't ask for an apology, but I will ask you, in the nicest way possible to fuck off back to the bar, and have a few more. I'm tempted to snap you in half, you drunken sot."

Anna is absolutely floored by John's defence of her. But she's concerned about his temper. While he spoke to the unpleasant man before him, the tops of his ears have turned beet red, and he'd begun clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. She attempts to intervene, largely out of concern for the drunken man. Still holding the glasses of bubbly, she leans forward and speaks softly.

"John? John, please... I'm okay. You can step back now. Let's just allow this moment to pass..." She pleads, sotto voce. The soothing timbre of Anna's voice gives John pause. Anna tries to further mitigate by appealing to her accuser directly. She squints at his name tag before beginning.

"Excuse me, Dr Zherr, is it?" Zherr nods. "I thoughtfully suggest you quietly remove yourself from from our presence. If you insist on finishing your tirade, he might just snap you in half. Ordinarily, after the way you've spoken to me - I'd be inclined to let him have at you. But, we really don't want that, do we?" Zherr shakes his head, and his expression turns ice cold as he thinks better of his uninvited palavering. John looks noticeably calmer, but adds another admonishment:  
"I invite you to get your facts straight before making any further allegations against my good friend and colleague. Now... Get. Off. Her. Back."

Having been taken down a peg, the meddlesome man slinks away in shame. John reaches behind him and Anna places his glass in the palm of his hand. He takes a sip as he watches the man retreat. He lowers his chin to his chest and exhales deeply before returning his attentions to Anna.

"John Hamish Watson!! You... are my hero!" says Anna, brightly.  
"I can't believe that cock. What a load of bollocks." John huffs.  
"Getting a massive wide on for you right now, John. That was hella sexy!"  
"It was, a bit. Yeah?"  
"Oh god, YES!" Anna smiles, and quirks a brow over her glass. 

They clink glasses and finish their drinks. John looks at his watch and decides it's time for them to take their seats at a table in the main hall. When they reach the doorway, they discover that the seating is assigned. After receiving their table number the duo amble casually to their table. It's near the back of the room, but has a straight path to the podium and a clear line of sight. They discover that their table has a very advantageous mixture of doctors, advocates, and assorted other like minded professionals. They introduce themselves to their genial table mates and settle in. The room fills slowly, and a nice conversational din wafts through the room. A server appears, with a stack of menu cards. She's very perky and answers some very annoying questions about the evening's meal choices with grace and aplomb. She informs the group that she'll be back in fifteen minutes to collect the individual menu requests, to be plugged into a computer in order that all requests are filled accurately as possible. 

Just when John and Anna have sufficiently relaxed, the last seat is filled by their friend from the reception, Dr Zherr. John and Anna snicker to themselves. Dr Zherr introduces himself to his table mates, and Anna coughs "Loser. Loser..." John guffaws at Anna's impudence. Dr Zherr cuts his eyes at Anna and John bristles. The doctor clears his throat, and slurs "Excuuuse meh. I mean s'cuse me. Did you have something to say? To me?" John feigns a sneeze as he says "A loser says WHUT!" Zherr cants his head and asks "What? What was that, you say?" John repeats himself. Anna barely stifles a giggle. Their server returns to collect the menu cards. After another round of Q & A about the food, John is visited by a headphone wearing banquet manager, who informs him that his speech will be in fifteen minutes. She asks John if he had any music to introduce himself. Before he could say no, Anna pulls her phone out of her purse and shows her a song. The banquet manager opens her device and Anna sends her the song cued up to the perfect spot for an intro.

John gathers his notes and prepares to excuse himself from the table. There is no one to introduce him. His remarks follow a video montage of various projects around the globe. When he hears the opening strains of “Bring On The Night" he strides purposefully to the podium, and the room greets him with applause. 

"Good evening. I’m John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. I spent three years in Afghanistan. I'm a veteran of Kandahar, Helmand, and Bart’s bloody Hospital for goodness sake." 

His laugh line hits the right spot. He looks over to the table at Anna and winks. She smiles, nods, and returns his wink. John looks down at his notes before continuing. 

"I am a physician, a former surgeon in The Royal Army Medical Corp and, I am here tonight to say without question that I am against torture." 

The room erupts into cheering and wild applause.

"Despite its universal prohibition, the routine state use of torture is endemic across the globe. There have been conferences and talks on the treatment of survivors of torture and self care for forensic professionals both medical and psychiatric, as they have a critical role to play in the detection and prevention of a range of human rights abuses but, sadly they can also be subject to intense institutional pressures to comply with abusive practices." 

"Amnesty International, Freedom from Torture, and the BMA along with the British Medical Journal as a media partner hosted a one-day conference exploring ways to strengthen the role of health professionals in the identification, recording and reporting of torture and its consequences."

"The British Medical Association in concert with our partner organizations of forensic health professionals are often on the frontline – the first to come across detainees who may have been tortured."  
"The purpose of this series of meetings was to bring together medical experts and human rights activists to explore what can be done to support forensic health professionals as they struggle to tackle the global burden of torture."

"Support is available, people. As the majority of doctors work part-time, one or two days per week at the most, a group runs on each day of the week from Monday to Friday. This schedule ensures every doctor who is willing to reach out has the opportunity to access support. Freedom from Torture centres have also initiated different forms of peer support."  
"Peer support is a new experience for most of us, innit? We're all too aware that the culture of medicine is such that we learn quite early in our careers to just get on with our work and not dwell on emotions. Stiff upper, and that... There seems to be a pervasive fear that admitting that we're feeling emotional about our patients will be perceived by colleagues and fellows as a sign of weakness." 

"Interestingly, anyone working with people who have experienced trauma should expect to be affected in some way. Would we not be human if we had no emotional response at all? Compassion for thier plight is why we do this work, is it not?"  
There are a few murmurs throughout the room, and a few nods of acknowledgement

"The expectation that we can be immersed in suffering and loss and not be touched by it is as unrealistic as expecting to walk through water without getting wet. This quote was made by co-founder of Commonweal, Dr Rachel Remen in 1996. Dr Remen has also said that “Healing is not a work of perfection or expertise. We are all healers. We heal with our wholeness, our humanity, all of our life experience, even our wounds. Our own wounds make us gentle with the wounds of others and able to trust the mystery of healing, not as a theory but from lived experience. Our vulnerability connects us to the vulnerability in others in compassionate and loving ways.” As a wounded veteran, I can attest to this myself."

"This is true for all health care workers who care for people affected by all forms of trauma. Everything from survivors of torture, to survivors of rape and domestic violence. The most difficult of all can be child and adult sexual abuse because of the intimate nature of the offense itself."

"High levels of workload, topped by low levels of morale can lead even the most valiant among us to burnout pretty quickly. Or worse, sublimating that hurt, grief and anger into self destructive behaviors. (Seen that tonight already...) It's high time to make sure that we take as much care of ourselves as much as those we care for. It's the only way that our work will fulfill us without overtaking us." 

"As a doctor, a veteran, and a humanitarian - I am honored to have addressed this body of professionals and concerned advocates. Now, let's mix it up a bit, and enjoy the evening."  
"Don't know about you, but I'm pretty peckish. There's something for everyone, or so I've heard. Vegan, Gluten free, organic, free range, low sodium and fat free. Bloody hell. That takes all the fun out eating, doesn't it?! Maybe I'll skip dinner and pick up a take-away on the way home!"

Once again, the room erupts in laughter.  
"Thank you. Enjoy the evening, good night."

As John leaves the podium, a lone audience member begins a slow clap that gains in intensity. Soon, everyone rises to their feet and the room is filled with cheers and ecstatic applause. John triumphantly makes his way back to his table, accepting handshakes, congratulations and well wishes as he goes. As the applause dies down, Anna is directly in his eye line. He makes a beeline for her, but before he reaches her someone steps directly in his path. It's Sherlock. Dressed to the nines, and looking quite happy to see his flatmate. Well... Happy enough for Sherlock, leastways.

"Well done, John."  
"Sherlock, you decided to come after all?"  
"After Anna pouted at me with an emoticon, I knew I couldn't refuse. Not long ago, I didn't have any friends, John. Now I have two. Couldn't live with the guilt of disappointing either of you tonight."

John pins Sherlock's arms to his sides and hugs him. The detective wriggles a bit and pulls a face but indulges John's affectionate gesture. Just this once. 

"Oi! Get a room you two!" Anna laughs as she nears Sherlock and John.  
"John, you killed it!" John releases Sherlock and turns to Anna, eyes widened.

Sherlock laughs at John's shocked expression over Anna's choice of words. "I see what you did there. Cheeky..." Sherlock winks at Anna.

"Sherlock. You continue to amaze me. Deep down, beneath that bespoke armour lies the heart and soul of a true friend." Anna purrs.  
"In all truth... John excels himself at every turn." says the tall rangy man, as he smoothes out his suit jacket.  
"I must admit, John habitually underrates his own abilities. He fancies himself a plainspoken man of limited appeal, but he is in fact a remarkable conductor of light. He mistakenly thinks that he is without without genius. Not only does John have the remarkable ability to stimulate brilliance in those around him; he is, in his inimitable fashion... quite a brilliant man. I'd be lost without him."

As he speaks, Sherlock has pulled out a chair to offer Anna a seat. He takes up a seat next to her and they watch John mingle amongst his colleagues, while receiving kudos on his remarks.

Anna turns to Sherlock and whispers softly in his ear.  
"Sherlock?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"I appreciate how hard it is for you to be here tonight." Anna says thoughtfully.  
Sherlock crinkles the top of his nose, rolls his eyes and scoffs at her observation.  
"No. Really, Sherlock... Your time in Serbia did a number on you. I know you'd like to forget all about it, if you could. But we both know why you can't. So does John. Don't worry. I won't go letting on..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WTF! The archive *broke* while I was trying to post. Spacing is really wonky.  
> (Boo-hoo...)
> 
>  
> 
> The Police - Bring On The Nigt (live in Paris '79)  
> http://youtu.be/R12FMuOWzx4
> 
> John's speech was lifted and reinterpreted. The text came from two websites associated with the British Medical Association's Doctors Against Torture initiative: 
> 
> http://bma.org.uk/working-for-change/international-affairs/doctors-against-torture
> 
> http://www.bma.public-i.tv/core/portal/webcast_interactive/160853
> 
>  
> 
> What John & Anna ate for dinner at the banquet:
> 
>   
>  [ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/F4AD24FA-960A-4323-95B3-6C183A8E378A_zpsgkcimznq.jpg.html)
> 
> Per a wiki about BBCs John Watson, he is also associsted with Broomfield Hospital Chelmsford and the University College Hospital London. Kinda cool for Anna, that last bit.  
> 4/25/14- WTF! I've been seeing posts that clock Watson's BD as 4/20. Geeze. I'm out of canon, but the preponderance of info suggests his BD is July 7th 1852 - Arthur Conan Doyle passed away on this date at the age of 71. (Which makes him a 'Cancer' not a 'Leo'. So, I futzed some verbiage to correct that assumption)
> 
> Pretty much not edited. Tired of fighting with the formatting ;~P


	10. Go Red! for Women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good afternoon, Doctor Watson." Anna purrs.  
> "Yes, Dr Eberhardt... I think it will be." John simpers.
> 
> She rubs her legs together like a praying mantis, as she slowly uncrosses them. 
> 
> Anna slides from her desktop and lands gracefully, barely making a sound. John takes in the entire procedure with great pleasure. Anna knows this, and enjoys providing the visual.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20Feb/3D227D64-88E5-4BA9-B552-80FBA7082415_zpsvislceqc.jpg.html)  


 

Anna sits on the corner of her desk with her legs crossed, waggling a shoe from the end of her foot while she checks her messages. A knock on the door comes as a welcome interruption. 

"Knock-knock?"  
"Come through, please..." 

Her office door opens, and John pokes his head inside. He smiles brightly when he sees Anna perched somewhat seductively on her desk. He's wearing an overcoat, and just a bit of the lapel from his jacket is poking out. It's the navy blue one that Anna adores. 

"Good afternoon, Doctor Watson." she purrs.  
"Yes, Dr Eberhardt... I think it will be." John simpers.  
"Thanks for coming with me. Today is going to be extra nerve wracking because it was all my idea. What was I thinking, John? Emceeing an event for The British Heart Foundation?" Anna worries.  
"Having an early evening cabaret and, choosing a small venue like the Club Theatre at RADA was a smart choice. Well, trust me on this... If I matters at all, you look exquisite in that red outfit. Those shoes look positively dangerous." John chuckles as he encourages her. 

Anna rubs her legs together like a praying mantis, as she slowly uncrosses them. She pushes herself from her desktop and lands gracefully, barely making a sound. John takes in the entire procedure with great pleasure. Anna knows this, and enjoys providing the visual. 

"You'll do fine. Do you need to warm up or anything?" John asks, politely.  
"No. A hot cuppa when we get there, with a little lemon and lots of honey will do the trick."  
"I'm looking forward to hearing you sing. What songs did you choose?"  
"Just wait-n-see!" she beams. "Are Sherlock and Mrs Hudson meeting us there, John? I need all the moral support I can get."

"Last I heard, Mrs Hudson was trying to shoo Sherlock out of her kitchen. He's obsessed with deviled eggs lately. Wonder why...?" John winks.  
"I made them once, John. ONCE! Now he can't get enough of them. He discovered that they're a blank canvas. You know that means... He'll be experimenting with them, iteration after iteration. Varying the spices, the ingredients, and how to cook them. And then, he'll not want them again for weeks, months or... ever." Anna shrugs.  
"Just the one more Jawwwn! For science!"

John and Anna laugh out loud at his spot on impression of Sherlock.

"Off we go then, yeah?" Anna asks as she fetches her coat. She gathers her papers, places them in her backpack and crosses the room toward the door. John holds the door for her as she wraps her favorite scarf around her neck. He smiles to himself, because it reminds him of Sherlock.

 

John and Anna stroll casually toward Gower Street to hail a taxi. The driver screeches to a halt, and John holds the door for Anna. He's getting used to this. He quite enjoys turning on the charm when she's around. Their banter is always lighthearted, and effortless. Even when speaking about difficult topics. The fact that he fancies her a bit, and quite suspects the feeling is mutual is a plus. She's smart, lovely and fun to be around. Much less maintenance than Sherlock, though similar in very interesting ways. 

The cab comes to a stop at their destination on Chenies Street, and the two head for the theatre. It is small, but stylish in its way. Anna checks in with the stage manager, and begins discussing the order of performances. Some of her colleagues begin to file in. Some are there to help set up, others are there to rehearse and perfect the staging and lighting cues for their performances. 

So busy was Anna, that after twenty minutes had passed, she was still wearing her coat. John walks across the room, and taps her on the shoulder. She turns toward him and he unbuttons her coat for her. She shrugs it from her shoulders, he takes it and he folds it over his arm. She smiles, cups his face and kisses the tip of his nose. "Thank-you John." Anna says in baby talk. "Nice pin, by the way..."  


  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20Feb/8CC8B3D7-7B18-4B57-A4B8-228754063A9F_zpsetlvoykp.jpg.html)   


John raises and lowers his eyebrows, as he rocks from his heels to his toes. Just as he turns to go back to the table he'd picked out, Mrs Hudson arrives, with Sherlock in tow. She takes Anna's coat, and pats John on the shoulder. Sherlock glowers at John, for no apparent reason, and he shakes his head at the detective.

"Open displays of affection, John. Again? People will start to talk." says Sherlock, in a snit.  
"People do little else. Nice to see you too..." John replies, in a very clipped tone.

Sherlock pulls out a chair for Mrs Hudson. He sits next to her, arms folded and legs crossed. He closes his eyes and huffs. When he opens them, he sees Molly entering the venue from the stage door. 

"Good god! What is she doing here!? John?"  
"Relax, Sherlock. Anna must have invited her."  
"To what end? Surely she has better things to do."  
"Sherlock!" John gasps.  
"I guess that was..."  
"A bit not good." The two speak in unison.  
"No, it wasn't Sherlock." John whispers through clenched teeth.

Molly and Anna greet each other warmly, Molly takes off her coat, and takes a seat behind a piano that has been brought in for the event. She warms up, to get a feel for the action of the keys, and Anna hums along. They find the perfect octave for Anna, and run through the song while the lighting cues are set up. When they feel comfortable with the music and lighting, the two women make their way over to a table for a quick chat. 

"Anna, I cannot thank you enough for including me in this. My Nan had heart disease. Even though she made lots of changes in her lifestyle, it eventually claimed her."  
"I thought of you when I got the idea for this fundraiser. It's been wildly successful. Thank YOU, Molly for putting the word out. If I'd thought it would be such a hot ticket, I'd have suggested a bigger room."  
"Not at all. This room is perfect, though. It's just big enough to hold the piano, and small enough to not get stage fright. By the bye, Anna... When do we go on?"  
"After the opening remarks. We go first. We'll get it over with and you can enjoy the rest of show."  
"I see Sherlock across the room, looking dapper and dour as usual."

Molly and Anna giggle like old friends. They look over at Sherlock and wave. He shakes his head, and shrugs them off. 

"I don't envy you. What's he like to live with?" Molly wonders.  
"It's not as bad as you'd think. He's different at home. Kinda. Mostly?" Anna chortles.  
"Can I ask you a question?"  
"Molly, you can ask me anything. Whether I choose to answer is a different matter." Anna clicks her tongue and winks.  
"Umm, well... What's he like? In bed?" Molly asks sheepishly.  
"Why do you ask?"  
"Well, he told me that he sleeps with you. Quite often, in fact."  
"Nooooo-no-no-no! It's not like that at all! We literally sleep together. Jammies on. Head to foot. Sometimes we fall asleep while we're working, other times he's just bored. I swear, Molly... I have a good mind to storm over there and slap his face."  
Anna looks down and shakes her head. Her expression is not one of anger, but embarrassment. She feels a bit exposed, and is trying to make sense of Sherlock's revelation to Molly. 

"Please don't on my account. I didn't know. Just being curious. He's seemed a little different lately, and when he told me you'd slept with him, well... I didn't know he was being literal. And the songs you chose. I just thought... My mind filled in all the blanks. Sorry."  
"Molly, you're so lovely. Thanks for that. You've not done anything wrong. " Anna gives Sherlock an intense sidelong glance. "The show must go on, yeah? And you're coming back to my flat, afterward. Right?"  
"I don't know if..."  
"Of course you should. There'll be lots of folks from tonight. No pressure, though. Cocktails, noshes and unwinding from the show." Anna cajoles.  
"Okay! You've talked me into it." Molly's bouncy reply.  
"Great! Time to get things going. You stay put." Anna advises.

Molly smiles sweetly and blushes. Then she looks over at Sherlock and shakes her head at him. He shrugs and mouths "What? What now?" at her. 

Anna sticks her fingers in her mouth, whistles and claps twice to get everyone's attention. "Hey guys, time to get our arses in gear. You all have the run down? There's a light murmur amongst her fellows. "So we're all good with the order we're in, yes?" A few nods, and everyone seems to agree on the order of performances.

"Thank you all for agreeing to do this. It was just a smart assed idea at a staff meeting, and look at what we've done!" The group becomes lively and sends up a cheer.  
"At the end of the evening, we're going to find out how much we've raised. So, bring it in party people." Everyone stands, makes a circle, and puts in a hand. "On three! One-two... Wear it! Beat it! GO RED!" The group cheers as one and exchanges handshakes and hugs amongst themselves. 

Anna approaches the stage manager to make sure that they're on time, and ready to open the doors to let ticket holders take their seats. The crowd settles in and Anna takes the mic as emcee for the evening. 

"For over 50 years the British Heart Foundation has pioneered research that’s transformed the lives of people living with heart and circulatory conditions. Their work has been central to the discoveries of treatments that become vital to creating healthy lifestyles, educating the public, and most importantly they are changing the fight against heart disease."

"Why are we here tonight? Because many people still need their help. From babies born with life-threatening heart problems to the many Mums, Dads and Grandparents who survive a heart attack. They endure the daily battles of and struggles of coping with heart failure and living with heart disease. Coronary Heart Disease is the number one killer in the UK." 

"Tonight, with your help and kind donations, the battle has been joined!" 

The audience bursts into spontaneous applause. 

"Join our fight for every heartbeat. Every pound raised, minute of your time and every donation to a BHF shop will help make a difference to people’s lives."

"More than 22,000 of us have signed up to get involved with Wear it. Beat it Friday. Well done, you! We are wearing red today and have organised an event to join the British Heart Foundation's fight against heart and circulatory disease."  
"Lots of red tonight. Ummm, lets see - Ties, dresses, pins, socks, shoes..." She steps forward points a toe and shows off her shoes. "Wristbands? Throw ya hands up wristbands! Hey! Mr DJ?! Hit me one time!"

The sound engineer cues up “Still Dre instrumental” and Anna starts to work the room. 

"Wristbands! Keep 'em up! Wave yer hands in a-yer and party like we just don't care!" She raises her own wristband clad arm and waves it from side to side. 

Her ebullient spirit raises the energy level in the room as Anna dances to the music. And the cast and crew cheer her on with a call and response:  
"Go Anna! Go Anna! Go Anna-Go Anna! Go!" 

"Ohhh! Nice! Okay... Great energy! But we're gonna take it down a little."

The hip-hop music fades out and the spotlight is softened. 

"Joining me tonight on piano is my very good friend Molly Hooper. Mols?"

Molly walks shyly up to the piano and takes her seat. She begins to play “I'll Cover You - Reprise” from “Rent”. As Anna sings the lead vocal two male voices join her and other parts come in, reversing the genders from the original sheet music. As the song progresses, groups of singers pop up all over the performance space and all join a unified choir of voices.  
When Molly plays the last notes and lets them waft into silence, the choir quietly leaves, and the audience applauds.

"Thank you to members of the UCLU Chamber Choir. Wow. I have chills. You? That was stunningly beautiful. Again, just an idea on a napkin, and wow." Anna sniffles. A Stagehand brings her a bar height chair. She sits gracefully, and crosses her legs. Just for effect, she does the praying mantis leg rub for John. She looks over to Molly and nods, cuing her to begin the next song.  
Molly soulfully plays "Unkiss Me" by Maroon 5. Anna warbles her way through very passionately. After the last note, the stage lights dim until Anna and Molly are entirely in shadow. 

The audience is very quiet, but applause filters through from the overflow space in the Studio Bar and the cafe audience follows suit. Anna stands up and curtsies, then goes over to the piano to take Molly by the hand. They exchange a glance, walk forward three steps and take a bow. 

"Molly Hooper everybody!" Anna raises Molly's arm in triumph. "Thanks, you were sublime." Anna whispers.  
"I actually had fun. It was great playing for you, Anna." 

Molly leaves the stage and takes a seat with the residents of Baker Street. They save a chair for Anna, and arrange themselves very closely.

"Next ladies and gentlemen, Mark Asredt will recite Shakespeare's Sonnet number one sixteen. Anna steps away from the mic and applauds as the next performer takes the stage. The rest of the performances go without a hitch, and the evening comes to a close.

ooo~0~ooo

Anna takes the mic once again to close the show, and conclude her duties as emcee. Before addressing the audience, she shields her eyes from the klieg lights and scans the room. She looks over to her table at Sherlock, John, and Mrs Hudson, and Molly. She points to them, smiles, and waves.

"Thanks for coming out tonight to support such a great cause. Give yourselves a big round of applause for starting your weekend with a few drinks and a little entertainment. There were songs, sonnets, poems... Did somebody read from The Vagina Monologues? Dear Lord. Don't recall having seen any Birkenstocks among the cast tonight. And if there are, they'd bally well better be RED!" 

The audience laughs, and Anna chuckles too. A stagehand hands Anna a folded sheet of paper, she opens it and prepares to read it. Before she does, a shadow at the back of the room catches her eye - a half lit silhouette leaning against a red umbrella. Before she can clearly make out a face, the figure vanishes from the doorway.

"I can't believe this, but I'm gonna share with you guys anyway. So far this month, we've raised over five thousand pounds!" 

The audience erupts into applause, and Anna gets a couple of wolf whistles.

"That news is as good a place as any to thank you all again for coming to the show tonight. Don't forget, the entire month of February is Heart Month. Thank-you! Good Night"

Mrs Hudson rushes over to Anna and hugs her. Anna hugs her back and says:  
"This was for Molly's Nan and women like her. I'm glad you take good care of your heart, Mrs Hudson. What would we do without you? Surely, London would fall..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go Red Day? Yeah, kinda late, but worth it. 
> 
>  
> 
> My Little Rent:I'll Cover You reprise (MLP:PMV)  
> http://youtu.be/_dT_LHfxrvU
> 
> "Unkiss Me" - Maroon 5 - Acoustic Piano/Vocal Cover  
> http://youtu.be/auiDAtN47cE
> 
> No Fear Shakespeare: Sonnets: Sonnet 116  
> http://nfs.sparknotes.com/sonnets/sonnet_116.html  
> _____________________________________________________
> 
> Go Red For Women:  
> https://www.goredforwomen.org/home/about-go-red/
> 
> Wear it. Beat it. British Heart Foundation:  
> https://www.bhf.org.uk/about-us/who-we-are
> 
> Any mistakes are mine. Not a boast, just a fact. Will give a more thorough read after posting. ƸӜƷ


	11. Surprise... The Optimistic Solution?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has a surprise to share with Anna. He's unsure whether she'll like it...
> 
> Come to the sitting room -  
> if convenient SH
> 
> If not? })ï({
> 
> Come anyway... SH

Come to the sitting room -  
if convenient SH

If not? ƸӜƷ 

Come anyway... SH

O_o ???

Don't make that face SH

Okay. How about this one  
:~P ƸӜƷ

I assure you it will be  
worth your while SH

Games? ::eye roll::  
I ain't got time for that ƸӜƷ

Not playing games SH

I'm busy ƸӜƷ

No. You aren't... SH

How would you know? ƸӜƷ

The number and speed  
of your replies would  
tend to indicate that  
you are not in fact  
otherwise occupied SH

Curses, foiled again!  
CU in 5... ƸӜƷ

4:59:47 and counting SH

 

Anna looks at Sherlock's last reply and giggles to herself. She shuts down her laptop and casually ambles toward the stairs, wondering what Sherlock has in store for her. When she reaches the landing of the sitting room,Sherlock is waiting for her, and leads her by the hand to the upper floor of 221. When they pass John's bedroom door, Sherlock pauses to open the door at the end of the hall.

"What's the deal, Sherlock?" asks Anna, quite impatiently.  
"I've been working on something I think you'll like. Come through." 

Sherlock pushes open the door, and Anna is stunned. She enters the room and spins 'round and 'round as she takes it all in. Sherlock has reclaimed the neglected space above the sitting room and created a small scale practice space. The walls have been professionally sound proofed except one. The remaining wall is adorned with floor to ceiling mirrors, and a ballet barre. 

"Sherlock! This is amazing! But... Why?" 

Sherlock misinterprets Anna's remarks as disapproval, and immediately begins to retreat. He feels exposed, and is unsure how to respond. 

"It's nothing. If you'd like I can have it removed. Or give it away, or..." He prattles on defensively.  
"No! Please don't take it the wrong way. I love it! I'm just not sure what I've done to deserve this."  
"Everything, Anna. This room is as much for me as it is for you. We are both musicians, and we enjoy dancing. This room is dedicated to our mutual passions."

The look of surprise on Anna's face grows into admiration with Sherlock's explanation. She moves closer to Sherlock and clamps her arms around him. He stoically pats her between the shoulders, and launches into further explanation. 

"Well, after I chatted to Marley..."  
"When did you talk to my niece, Sherlock?"  
"It was... erm, a couple of weeks ago.Or thereabouts. Anyroad, We were at a crime scene, and you'd left your mobile on the dash in Lestrade's car."  
"Oh! I remember. Italian mother, missing baby, missing suitcase?" Anna nods.  
"Yes, that's the one."  
"You never did find that carry on, did you? Boy, you and suitcases..."

Sherlock furrows his brow, then continues.

"I could tell from the ringtone that it was Marley. Since you weren't available to answer, and I didn't want her to worry, I let her know that you would call her back."  
"Thanks, Sherlock."  
"That's when she volunteered that she might have cracked one of your 'vaders?'"  
"Vaters, Sherlock. My drumsticks. Damn. She cracked one of my Funk Blasters?! Lil' Mamí is gonna be awesome!" Anna chortles with delight.  
"Never knew that you played drums Anna."  
"Love of drumming and percussion took me by surprise years ago. My brother Anthony got a really awesome drum kit from our Mom and Dad, but he lost interest shortly after discovering girls. I started to experiment with 'em and decided to stick with it. No pun intended."  
"That sounds like you to a T, Anna. I've often wondered why you're always tapping on solid surfaces with chopsticks, pencils and such." 

Anna takes a look around and points over her shoulder. 

"It that how you got the idea for all this, Sherlock? One brief conversation with my niece?"  
"Ummm..."  
"What have you been up to, Wils?..."

Sherlock quirks his chin, looks down and to the left. He clasps his arms behind his back and rocks from heel to toe. Anna flips her hair to the left side of her head, and narrows her eyes at Sherlock. He steadfastly avoids her gaze and tries valiantly to find a distraction.

"Oh look! A phase looper! Forgot to show you that bit." he chuckles uncomfortably. 

Anna points to her eyes and then over to Sherlock as she moseys up to a small stand to have a closer look at the mentioned machine.

"This is really extravagant, Sherlock. I don't understand why you've gone to all this trouble."

"You and John have bonded over your work for Doctor's Against Torture, and I wanted to have something special too."  
"Sherlock. Oh! C'mon... You and I have literally slept together. You don't think that sharing my personal space is a bonding experience?"  
"I see the way John looks at you, Anna. And you're always... flirting." Sherlock furrows his brow and pouts. His voice just this side of full on whinging.

"You might have a point about the flirting, but you and I have bonded over lots of things, Sherlock."  
"Like what?"  
"We dance."  
"Nope." He says, popping his lips for emphasis. "You dance, I just follow along closely as possible."  
"That's not entirely true. Why don't you realize how special you are? We've shared a lot of things that have nothing to do with anyone but us. Your appreciation of me will never be the same as John's. Your headspace is oriented differently, Sherlock. It's not a competition. John and I are both in the medical profession. So what? You gonna go to med school? Become a behaviorist, maybe?"  
"Would that help?"  
"Hell no. It wouldn't help. And woe to anyone who'd be a patient of yours. I know a guy like you who's a doctor. Brilliant man. Extraordinarily gifted. Biggest twat I've ever met in my life. Geeze, I was head over heels for this arsehole. Gawd... What does that say about me?!" Anna shakes her head and Sherlock laughs.  
"You've heard stories, huh?"  
"Read one or two anecdotes."  
"Feckin' Mycroft..." Anna huffs.

Sherlock crosses the room to stand next to Anna. He has one more surprise to share. He fetches up a violin case and opens it ceremoniously as if he's presenting a beloved artifact.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20Feb/D9527131-358D-46A9-811C-2EDB706EBB2C_zpsrzs3g81f.jpg.html)  


"Sherlock! What on earth possessed you to buy an electric violin?" Anna's eyes light up with curiosity and wonderment. She's still puzzled by the grandiosity of the gesture, but can't help but be impressed by Sherlock's enthusiasm.  
"Do you not like it?" He frowns.  
"It's beautiful. In many ways, just like you. It's sleek, and modern. Absolutely resplendent. And a little showy." She playfully throws Sherlock an elbow to the hip. "The violin definitely suits you, but I thought your genre was classical? This is a jazz fusion, rock-n-roll sort of instrument."

"I've been practising something. The sheet music was frustrating, but I went straight to YouTube to find examples of different non-classical styles. May I play for you, Anna?"  
"I'd be thrilled, Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock boots up his laptop, turns on the phase looper and external speakers. He dons a set of headphones, chooses a sample with accompanying overdubs, and begins to play. His fingers curve expressively, and his bowing exquisitely passionate. Anna bobs her head and swings her hips to Sherlock's spirited rendition of "One More Night" by Maroon 5. When he's done, she thanks him by taking his hands into hers. She kisses the back of his hand, and holds it over her heart. Sherlock smiles faintly, unsure of how to respond. Just then, a piece of lost information floats around in his Mind Palace. He hadn't deleted it, so it must hold some value. To someone. Perhaps Anna? 

 

"Oh, erm..." Sherlock takes off the headphones, and scratches his head.  
"Sher-lock?! What've you done..."  
"I took another message for you from Marley. She said a friend of yours was going to be giggling in town?"  
"Gigging, Sherlock. Who is it?"  
"Somebody named Dan, or Dale or summat..."  
"Last name?"  
"Gruff, or Growl, maybe?" He chuckles uncomfortably.  
"Dave? Dave Grohl?"  
"YES! That's the one!" He says, relieved that she's figured it out.  
"Was there a message? SHERLOCK!!"  
"Yes. Something about all access or something."  
"Backstage passes? Are you jokin' me! That show is tonight!" 

Sherlock shrugs and packs up his violin. Anna scurries toward the door, then turns on her heel, grabs Sherlock by a belt loop and pulls him out of the room. 

"Wait, where are you taking me? Anna!?"  
"You're coming with me to see my friend Dave play."  
"Must I?"

"Sherlock Holmes!! Get. Your. Coat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title borrowed from this pull quote:  
> “To the issues of friendship, love, business and war, "surprise" is the optimistic solution.”  
> ― Amit Kalantri
> 
> Maroon 5 - One More Night (Lyric Video)  
> http://youtu.be/7CPYoGtI75Q
> 
> One More Night (Violin Cover) - Maroon 5 - Nathan Hutson  
> http://youtu.be/4BXSSvA1Glg
> 
> Not Beta'd...


	12. Every Second Of The Night I Live Another Life...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna falls asleep while binge watching “Spartacus: Gods of the Arena” on her laptop. She dreams of ancient Rome, and her subconscious plays out an epic mini-drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May contain triggers: non-con, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and domestic violence.  
> Written in the manner of speech portrayed in the television show: “Spartacus: Gods of the Arena”. Nowhere near canon compliant, and decidedly NSFW. Slightly redeeming element of comfort added. 
> 
> After dropping the names into different Roman Name generators, decided that while Anna is a smart cookie and she'd not change anyone's name during REM sleep.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20Feb/8765DDA7-1664-4B35-B626-D04531BBDE3A_zpsqgzce13v.jpg.html)

"We cannot lie here, dearest. We both know my husband is a man of choleric temper, and if he finds you here..."  
"Please, don't forsake me. I would have you twice more before sunrise. Giving you pleasure brings me great joy. I would feel less than a man were I to leave you unsatisfied."  
He strokes her hair and smiles. His allows hands to wander. Gliding aimlessly over her sleek, sturdy curves. The smoothness and nut brown color of her skin enticing him to abandon all reason, and take his lover again before her husband returns home from a night of carousing and debauchery.

"Not once have you left my bed that I was not completely sated. By the Gods, the touch of your hands and the fullness of your magnificent cock have spoilt me for any other. Including my own husband."  
"I feel the same, my love. These stolen moments are never enough. My heart is rent to tiny pieces when you are by his side. His smugness and hubris are a constant irritant." 

And there they lay - A Nubian Princess (stolen from her family to satisfy an outstanding debt) with the Medicus of the ludus. He's a hearty, handsome man of average height, with a build befitting his former occupation as a Centurion and Medicus in the Roman Legion. His hair, the color of sand, and eyes a beautiful shade of cobalt blue. He is a genial sort. The golden hue of his skin lends him an air of being lit from within. The warmth and constancy of his presence are appealing to his lover - his best friend's wife. 

The duo are joined in a passionate embrace, kissing languorously and enjoying the heat radiating from each other's skin - when just beneath her balcony the dull thud of hooves suddenly arrive at the ludus gates. 

"You must go. He has returned from this evening's amusement. Please... Quickly, my love. Once his mount is stabled, his next order of business will be a visit to my chambers."  
"I'm sure that you're correct on that score. I wish that we could stay together through the night, but that doesn't seem to be in the stars for us this night. Damn him! Knowing that he'll put his hands on your skin, kiss your lips... "  
"Shhhh... I know how you feel about sharing me. But remember, it was you who gave me pleasure tonight. Your hands. Your lips. Your..."

The two move in for one more stolen kiss. The medicus then removes all traces of his presence, and makes for a passage near her window. Before absenting himself, he looks over his shoulder at her and smiles longingly. With great sadness, she turns away and waits for his footfalls to recede.  
The princess darts about the room, scrupulously inspecting every inch of her bedchamber for evidence of her assignation. She dreads the cuckold's return and secretly wishes he'd have remained in the village until morning. She makes quick use a a basin, filled with fresh rainwater, rose petals and scented oils. Once she has removed the scent of her lover from her skin, she drapes herself in a beautiful, flowing silk robe. She rearranges her hair, and poses nonchalantly on the balcony of her room. She eyes the medicus scampering across the court yard to his quarters, and her breath catches in her throat.  
Moments later, her husband does indeed appear at the archway that leads into her bed chamber.

The lanista is a tall, slender man. His hair is a dazzlingly riotous tangle of loopy raven curls, and his angular cheeks the perfect frame for his piercing ice blue eyes. Were it not for the nature of their arrangement, and his vile temper, she might've allowed herself to drop her guard and fall madly in love with him. He is a brilliant man, but his ruthless business sense has earned him many enemies, the least of which his best friend the former centurion and current medicus at his ludus. The medicus had acquired a taste for the company of wanton women and wagering on gladiatorial game. He incurred a rather large debt, which the lanista was all too happy to discharge. At a price, of course. His repayment was loss of status and his rank in Caesar's army. Servitude at the Ludus Gulielmus taken as payment in kind.

"Greetings, husband. I'd thought your preoccupation with bacchanalia would keep you away from the villa until sunrise. Your return, is a surprising turn of events."  
"I yearned for the comforts of your bed, my darling. This night's amusements were lackluster and rather uninspiring. The warmth and solace of your bedchamber seemed a better choice." His plaintive lamentation spoken in a timbre designed to seduce.

Despite her near dread of the man, the low rumble of his voice nearly tempts her to give herself willingly to him. He strides onto the balcony and sweeps her into his arms. He pulls her close and fists the hair on top of her head as her kisses her. The clash of teeth do not deter him from forcing her lips apart and delving into her mouth with his tongue. The taste of this evening's amusement are on his breath, giving her just cause to pull away.  
"Why do you refuse my affections, wife? I rode unaccompanied through the darkness to return to you this night. All for you. My single thought was to share a cup of wine, and a warm bath with my lovely bride."

The princess reaches behind her to gain a sense of space as she plans her retreat. He closes the space between them, and pins her to a column. His next attempt at a kiss is met with a hard slap across the face. 

"You repel me. Why do you think it an honor for me to give myself to you when you reek of piss, charred boar, and cheap wine? The taste of another woman's cunt yet heavy on your tongue... But here you stand seeking the pleasures of our marital bed? To what end?" 

He grabs her wrist and shoves her hand beneath his tunic as he growls into her ear: "If I want you, I will simply take you. Do not attempt appall me with fiery displays of pique. Your insolence causes my cock to awaken. Can you not feel it growing firmer with each passing moment? Do you not understand that it craves your touch as much as I?"

The princess reclaims her hand, and rubs her wrist. He grabs her by the waist, steers her backward into her bedchamber and pushes her down to the bed. She lands on her back with a soft thud, and tries valiantly to crawl away from him as her eyes fill with salty tears. Her failed bid to flee would seem to have inspired his wine soaked brain to pursue her aggressively.  
The lanista grapples with his wife until he successfully pins her to the featherbed. Her tearstained cheeks and soft mewling are all the foreplay he needs. Her arms fly over her head as he wraps his fingers around her ankle, and pulls her toward him. He stops just long enough to open her robe, pull up his tunic and fling himself on top of her. He ruts against her while pawing at her breasts. Her soft wailing gives way to fervent wailing as he licks and bites her neck whlie forcing his way inside her.

He grabs her face, digs his slender fingers into her cheek and sticks his thumb into her mouth. She opens her mouth wide, allowing him to slip his thumb onto her tongue. She clamps down hard onto the offending digit with her teeth until she draws blood. He rears up and rescues his thumb before she can bite down to the bone. He rests on his haunches and stares at his hand as droplets of his blood dot the bedclothes. His eyes darken and he cants his head. She slowly scoots away from him as his temper flares into full on rage. 

In her zeal to take flight, the princess scrabbles to her feet and makes for the door of her bedchamber. Before she can put on a burst of speed, he closes the distance between them and is upon her. He lunges toward her and pulls her into him. Her breathing becomes ragged and unsteady. She doesn't put up any resistance, but her body becomes rigid. The more inflexible her posture becomes the tighter he holds her, until his arms are wrapped completely around her. He places his chin on her shoulder, and nuzzles her ear. The rage begins to dissipate as he digs down valiantly tries to confess his true feelings. She closes her eyes and listens quietly. He rocks her gently and speaks softly.

"If you blow out the candles, I'll turn down the bed for us. Though I have no right to ask, I'd like to lie down with you. Please. If only to silence the voices in my head." His smooth baritone has captured full attention.

"Just hold me close, husband. But do not patronize me with platitudes."

"Beloved wife, it grieves my heart that I cannot I make you love me. To make your heart feel something it will not is an impossibility, but here in the darkness of this room, I will lay my heart bare, hoping against hope that you will feel the power of my convictions." 

Torn between seeking solace in the strong arms, and tender embrace of her lover, and attempting reconciliation with her husband, she chooses the latter. 

"Let us start afresh. We'll hold each other until you feel safe and sound, my beauty."  
"There's beauty in release, husband dearest. In this moment, there's no one but you, and me. You will never understand how often I wish nothing more than to save you from yourself."  
"I'd not blame you for quitting. I know how hard you've tried." His chin quivers and his eyes mist over with unfallen tears.

He turns his wife to face him and drops to his knees. He buries his face in her middle, clasps his arms around her and weeps. 

"It seems that apologies are the hardest words for a man such as me, dear wife."  
"The word sorry is what you cannot say. So much time has gone by, and yet some words do not fall easily from the tongue, husband."  
"Like sorry?" he asks.  
"Yes, like sorry..." she confirms.

"But you can start by asking me if I'd care to be swept into your arms and carresed tenderly. I so long to be held by you." She proffers.  
"I wish that simply speaking the right words could make you mine." 

"Alas, my beloved - Actions speak louder than words. One might want to consider a little tenderness..." she suggests.

He continues to sob quietly. Unsure of how to proceed, she reaches down to run her fingers through her husband's soft tangle of curls, and lightly strokes his face. 

 

Anna stirs herself awake, closes her laptop and blinks the sleep from her eyes. "That's it. Jeebus Crust! No more double shot Bailey's lattes and binge streaming on a school night. Damn. That was all kindza crazy." She reaches for her mobile and places a call.

 

John's phone is on his bedside table set to vibrate only. When it starts dancing around on the table, he reflexively answers. Wrongly believing it couldn't be anyone but Sherlock. 

"John? I know it's horribly late. Can we have breakfast and a chat this morning?"

"Anna?" He mumbles half into his pillow. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you need. We good?"

"Yes. Thank you, John." Anna ends the call and tries to return to sleep. She's unsure if her dream was solely down to what she'd been watching before falling asleep, or her conflicted feelings for John and Sherlock, but she's looking forward to a long talk over breakfast and tea with John.  
The thought of chatting to him in front of a nice fluffy stack of buttermilk pancakes smeared with butter and raspberry jam makes Anna smile as she sinks back into her pillow and drifts off. Perhaps headed for more nocturnal adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What started as a lark to ship Anna to John and Sherlock without futzing the flirty narrative of the one shots took a turn and wound up really dark. Kinda steered into the skid and added an element of redemption. ♪'Cause all I ever had...♪ 
> 
> Listened to some pretty angsty music while writing this. (And borrowed from it shamelessly) thanks Tracy Chapman, Sheryl Crow, Josh Groban, Heart, Bob Marley, Nine Inch Nails, Bonnie Raitt and Otis Redding.  
> Anyhoo, it was an interesting experiment. 
> 
>  
> 
> Not Beta'd, so as usual will be editing on the fly. Preview is awesome, but poring over your own words ad nauseam oft means missing the glaringly obvious.


	13. Three Abreast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening of binge-watching and noshing sparks a lively, flirtatious exhange. Prompting a fascinating and unexpected revelation.
> 
> "Should we really be talking about this, Anna?" John chuckles uncomfortably.  
> "Why not? We're just a couple of pals hanging out, shootin' the breeze. _Aren't we_?" Anna shrugs, nonchalantly.
> 
> John furrows his brow and tries to dissuade Anna from further inquiry, but she's having too much fun, and will not let John change the subject.

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/7CD1440C-EF62-4F31-ABBD-EFD5A74EF5B9_zpskmmzjhue.jpg.html)   


"Tell me again why we're doing this, Anna?" Sherlock huffs. "Surely there are more entertaining ways for us to spend our downtime."

Anna plops down on her sofa between Sherlock and John with a large stainless steel bowl containing three flavors of popcorn. John aims a remote at the television and begins the House of Cards binge-a-thon with recaps from previous seasons of the show. 

"More noshing, less grousing please... Have another deviled egg, Wils. The duck bacon was a master stroke, by the way. Sherlock, you're becoming quite the foodie. Sure didn't see that coming." Anna smiles. 

"I've taken your pointers on board as I've gone along. The eggs were a little frustrating. After several unsuccessful attempts with quite a few other implements, I happened upon a sieve to mash the yolks."  
"Well done, you!" Anna enthuses.  
"All in all using the sieve creates a more pleasant mouth feel in the end product, and disperses the spices more efficiently than using a fork. The only downside is the amount of egg salad created from failed attempts, but I'm sure John won't mind." 

"Anything for science, Sherlock." John winks. The eggs are delicious, but not as good as the country ham crostini. Or the burnt ends that Anna made. Could you pass those, please?." John reaches for the serving platter, but his request is playfully refused by Anna.  
"Nope!" She replies, popping her lips.  
"Mmm-kay. Why not?"

"Cuz I wanna do this..." Anna reaches for the platter, spears a hunk of brisket with a bamboo pick and drags it seductively through a ramekin of sauce. She aims it toward John, happily presenting him with the cube of meat, which he gladly accepts. He steadies her hand with his, and guides it straight into his waiting mouth. 

"Oh Anna... That. Is. Delicious." John closes his eyes and hums contentedly as he chews. " _Mmmph __..."_

Sherlock rolls his eyes and shifts uncomfortably. When John opens his eyes he looks directly at Anna, and grins devilishly. She worries the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth, and pulls her hair behind her ears.

"Do you expect me to just sit here for an entire evening with you two while you flirt shamelessly like two overgrown teenagers?" Sherlock scoffs. "If that is indeed where this is headed, I choose to absent myself. I'm sure there's an experiment or two upstairs that require my attention." 

"You're right Sherlock, we're sorry." Anna affects a cloyingly sweet tone and bats her lashes at the grouchy detective. Anna reaches into the bowl of popcorn for three perfect clusters with fluffy kernels and offers them to Sherlock. 

"Here, try this. I made this flavor just for you." She reaches toward his mouth with a perfectly formed popcorn cluster, which Sherlock eyes suspiciously before he begrudgingly accepts.  
"Bite it, Sherlock. You hafta bite it..." And he does. One nibble at a time. 

"That is absolutely scrumptious, Anna." He chews deliberately as he tries to discern the flavours pinging around his palate.  
"You were on my mind, and these flavors kinda spoke to me."  
"I'm impressed by your choice of spices. The texture is also quite, umm... Yummy?"

Anna chuckles as she watches Sherlock spin the bowl toward himself and grab a handful. He holds the popcorn in one hand and plucks the choicest morsel into his mouth first.  
"I won't keep you in suspense, Sherlock. It has dark muscavado sugar, honey, a dash of ground ghost chilies, a pinch of baking powder, rosemary from my Earthbox, and a smattering of roasted pecans. I melted everything into ghee until it bubbled, then poured it onto the popcorn and let it sit while I made some other noshes." 

"Toffee? You made toffee corn. _For me_?" He asks, somewhat quizzically.  
"Aww, c'mon Wils... Nothing else would do for my fave consulting detective. Besides, how else would I have coaxed you into an evening of mind-numbing telly without pulling out the heavy artillery?" Anna winks and helps herself to a few stray kernels from his hand.

"Say thank you, Sherlock." John admonishes.  
"Thank You, Sherlock" he chortles.

"Well played, Wils!" Anna reaches out with a forefinger and taps the end of his nose.  
"BOOP!" John chuckles.  
"Jawwwn!" Sherlock bellows.

Anna giggles to herself as she leans forward to park the bowl on the coffee table. "Okay, boys... We good? Adult beverages on board?" John raises a full glass of beer, and Sherlock points to his wine glass. "Alrighty then, let's do this!" Anna makes herself comfortable by leaning into Sherlock and snuggling her feet under John's thigh. John lifts the remote from the arm of the sofa and dramatically presses play. When the music and the title montage starts, Anna's eyes light up as the sights of her beloved hometown roll by. 

The opening scene shows a motorcade wending its way through a quiet town at dawn. Not quite in a hurry, but moving rather quickly. It stops in a cemetery, and the dialog begins. The antihero breaks the fourth wall to speak to the viewers, and does something unexpected for the solemnity of the scene.

"Omigosh! Did he just..." Anna wonders aloud.  
"Yes. He certainly did." John confirms.

Sherlock contorts his face and sips his wine. He's seen this kind of behavior before. Up close and personal.  
"Magnussen." He mumbles into his glass.

"John?" Anna whispers.  
"I'll explain later, luv. Best not broach that topic just now..." John smoothes a hand up and down Anna's shin. She nods, and turns her attention back to the program. 

When the episode concludes, the trio begin to stir, and Sherlock is the first to speak.  
"Bored. And I need the loo." Sherlock gripes, as he rises to his feet. He stretches and makes for Anna's en suite. "Feel free to discuss me while I'm otherwise occupied." 

Anna swings her legs around in front of her and leans forward, placing her elbows on her knees. She turns to John and closes her eyes as she finds the words to express herself.  
"I'm sorry, John"  
"WOT? Why, Anna?" John shakes his head.  
"I hadn't realised this show would have so many triggers for you both. Like that bit with the broken arm, and the guy with the syringe. Sherlock soldiered through it, but I don't think he sank into his usual level of casual snarky boredom. Though he did perk up a bit when the boobs were on screen. No pun intended"  
"Pun exactly intended" John chuckles. "But there's no need to apologize, Anna. I'll tell you about Magnussen later. It's a long story. The whole chapter has left both of us a little worse for wear, but we're still here."

"Hmmm..." Anna nods. 

John grins, and waggles a brow. "Now that you mention it, those breasts were quite, um... Something. Yeah..."  
"Really? In what way, if I might be so bold"  
"Well..." John scrubs a hand over his head and winces a bit.  
"C'mon. Don't be... shy." Anna replies in a very smoky contralto.  
"They were perky. Right nice handful. And the nip... Oh, Gawd Anna! Are we really having this conversation!?"

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20Feb/82DC329D-27C0-4C85-B8CB-AD549523AD92_zpseedf67dm.jpg.html)

John furrows his brow and tries to dissuade Anna from further inquiry, but she's not ready to change the subject. Anna looks down at her own bosom and fixes John with a gaze that vacillates between accusation and curiosity. 

"So, from a strictly objective stand point, are you saying mine are too ample?"  
"Well erm, no. From a strictly observational view point, that is..."  
"Do go on Doctor Watson."  
"I'm not too sure we should be talking about this..." John chuckles mirthlessly.  
"Why not? We're just a couple of pals hanging out, shootin' the breeze. You were saying?"  
"Right. Well, your uh, bosoms are quite lovely. They, um... Well, they're proportionate. They have a beautiful natural shape and... _Bloody Hell_ ANNA!"  
"What?" She shakes her head, shrugs and grins coquettishly. 

"I think what John means to say is that your breasts are not only quite lovely, but that he's been imagining the look and feel of them for months now. As have I." 

The rangy detective stealthily rejoins the conversation, and summarily upends it with one frank utterance. Part deduction, part confession.

"Your figure is quite lovely, Anna. Despite my lack of overt ogling, I too have allowed myself to admire your physique. Could I be said to have an orientation, I would be most inclined to call myself Sapio. Though that would not preclude me from having an appreciation of the female form. Yours is particularly fetching. Not sure how much is purely subjective and how much is simply due to proximity." Anna cants her head as Sherlock continues. Held absolutely enthrall his speech. 

"Your shape is simultaneously curvaceous and athletic. In many ways, you could be said to epitomize the modern ideal. Your transport _fascinates_ me, Anna. While it is visually pleasing, it also houses a mental acuity surprisingly complementary to my own." Sherlock states, rather resolutely. "To turn a phrase: ‘I am but a red blooded man’." 

"Wow. Geeze, way to flip the script Wils. Don't think I've ever heard myself described quite that way before." Anna clears her throat before seeking a clarification. "So let's be clear, Sherlock... Are you completely asexual or merely celibate?"

Sherlock wrinkles his nose and quirks a brow as he cogitates. He steeples his fingers - tapping his forefingers as he looks down and to the left. Then he worries his bottom lip a bit then and replies: "Definitely celibate. To call myself asexual would be a complete misnomer."  
"So, you _are_ sublimating your sexual energies into The Work?"  
"Yes, Anna. You managed to suss that out nearly immediately, the first time we had tea together. Dancing with you is the closest I've gotten in years to physical contact that had no underlying motive other than my enjoyment. That, and masturbation, of course."

Anna reaches for her wineglass, empties the bottle into it and leans back into the sofa.  


"This isn't awkward at all, is it?" John laughs.

"Awkward?" Sherlock sniffs. "Why would you say that, John?" Sherlock asks as he snarfs down a deviled egg.

"Really, Sherlock? _Really_?! Could you possibly be more socially tone deaf?" John throws his hands up in sheer exasperation, and shakes his head.

"Glad we got that all sorted, eh? Ta!" Anna's cheeks light up as she blithely sips her wine and smiles mischievously over her glass.

Anna looks at John, then glances over to Sherlock before asking: "On that note... Whaddaya say guys? Are we ready for our trip to DC?" 

John torques his face in utter bemusement, while Sherlock chortles impishly in his signature baritone. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In ch3 “Bored Games” Anna says the following to Sherlock:  
> "Let me be very blunt, then. You're a very attractive man, Sherlock. And, I'm just a red blooded gal."
> 
> Definition of Sapiosexual:  
> http://www.unwords.com/unword/sapiosexuality
> 
> Description of the television show “House of Cards”  
> http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Cards_(U.S._TV_series)
> 
> Not Beta'd


	14. If I Would... Could You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Anna sits at her drum kit, her thought bubble is a hive of of cell synapsis that is buzzing and pinging too wildly for her to think clearly. 
> 
> That's a bit not good, because she needs to prepare herself for a transatlantic flight. She takes a cleansing breath, closes her eyes, counts down, and begins playing her heart out.  
> She's playing to find the answer to a question as if it were a kind of sacred geometry. But her vexation is decidedly more temporal -
> 
> The bespoke clad riddle wrapped in a mystery, that is the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes.

Anna sits at her drum kit. The set Sherlock carefully pieced together when he reclaimed the unused space above the sitting room.

[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/C0A77293-6E38-4FE2-BC9D-3D1ED2A3463E_zpserqmjfuj.jpg.html)

And there she sat. Hair pulled up into a riotous cascade of loopy curls, topped off by a backward baseball cap. She's taped her fingers, and is listening to playback through her headphones. She picks up her sticks. She prefers Vaters, but on the advice of her friend Dave, Sherlock gifted her a few pairs of Zildjians.  
She spins the sticks and chuckles as she recalls his exact words: "Though I know these are not your first preference, I think you'll find the craftsmanship superior and responsiveness to your liking. Many drummers use different sticks to meet their performance and practice needs. Besides, your friend David said that Vaters are lame and you know why." The earnest expression on Sherlock's face lent gravitas to his musing. He'd done his research. And stepped out of his comfort zone to ask advice. _Oh, Sherlock... Why are you so damned complicated?_  
Anna's thought bubble is a hive of of cell synapsis and nascent self perception that is buzzing too wildly for her to think clearly. That's a bit not good. Because she has to calm herself to prepare for a transatlantic flight in a few hours. She tries to take a cleansing breath. She closes her eyes, counts down and begins playing her heart out. She's playing to find the answer to a question she can't quite fathom. Almost as if she's trying to decode a sacred geometry of cause and effect. Alas, her vexation is more earthly in nature. The bespoke clad riddle that is none other than the one and only William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Chemist. Consulting Detective. Housemate. Burgeoning Foodie. Virtuoso Violinist. Asexual Marvel. He of Byronic curls, and custom tailoring. _But wait...Asexual? Not. So. Much. Sapio? Really, dude? Damn you Sherlock. Damn you for upending my little apple cart..._ Anna knows that she's inside her head too much right now. And so, she continues to play. Cacophonous as the music seems to the casual observer, she's found her sweet spot. A well of calm deep enough to envy nearly any Zen Master.

"She's playing grunge again, Sherlock. And the red toe shoe is hanging from the doorknob. She's got something on her mind, and isn't ready to share."  
"Frankly, under those conditions, I'm reluctant to be the one to summon her. You do recall what happened last time..."  
"Yeah, you opened that door and she lobbed a drumstick at you like a ninja with a throwing star." John laughs.  
"I fail to see the humour in that."  
"It's so Anna. In all fairness, you were given visual cues that you chose to ignore. Seeing and observing, Sherlock."

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/239A637B-309F-4C89-82C4-92FCA4EBF53E_zpscg2scggw.jpg.html)   


  


Sherlock stands defiantly, with a hand on his hip as he taps his chin with two fingers. He then rolls his eyes and huffs, petulantly. 

"Oi! Don't you get stroppy with me." John pokes Sherlock's chest with a forefinger. "She respects your space, and by all rights you should respect hers."  
"But, I do. _Generally_..."  
"Sherlock, you have a way of wheedling your way into her space physically, and emotionally. Sometimes she needs a little distance to sort things out. And you need to let her. That being said... Perhaps if we both went together, this might work. We've gotta fetch her so we can get going to the airport."  
"She's ambidextrous, John. And fully armed with two forty centimeter projectiles made of wood."  
"Well, we're all packed and ready to go, and our cab will be here soon. We have no choice. Once more unto the breach, Sherlock. Once more..."  
"Indeed." 

Sherlock and John steel their nerves. They look at each other, nod and gingerly climb the stairs to the music room. Once past John's bedroom door, they tap on the door and pause for a beat to gather their thoughts. John cracks the door, and waves his hand before peeking in to suss out the possibility of being pelted by flying drumsticks. Once sure that he can enter without incident, John opens the door and steps through. Anna is still playing, so he covers his ears and screws his eyes shut. He walks around to the front of the riser and tries to gain Anna's attention. She shakes her head and says "I know what time it is, John." Once finished playing, Anna removes her headphones and begins untaping her fingers.

"We're cutting it awfully close, luv. Need you downstairs."  
"Are we alone, John?"

Sherlock opens the door the rest of the way, and steps through. He gathers a fistful of his hair at the top of his head, and scrunches his nose.  
"No, I'm here too. I just wanted to..."  
"Button it Wils. Diggin' the whole regular guy vibe, by the way. The dark jeans, chambray shirt leather jacket dealio works. It suits you. And that stubble? Wow!" Anna grins. "Lookit guys, let's not get into a whole drawn out dramatic dealio, ‘kay? We're gonna be in very close proximity for a really long time. There'll be ample opportunity to lay our cards on the table and get things sorted. Though I'm looking forward to getting something to eat and kip down for a while. HA! I get to sleep with both of you!" Anna giggles giddily. "Shit! I can't believe I said that out loud!" she winces. "If that slip isn't proof enough that I'm running on fumes, I don't know what is... I'm _exhausted_ " she yawns. "But I'm not walking back that last bit." 

Anna shuts down her laptop and the phase looper. She takes a look around to make sure she's left nothing undone, then moves toward John and Sherlock. She reaches out to them with both of her hands, and they each take one. She clasps their hands tightly, and sweetly kisses the back of each man's hand. "Don't make me say the words. You already know. Dontcha?" John smiles and nods. Sherlock looks befuddled and starts to stutter as he tries to find his words.  
"I... erm... That is to say..." Sherlock tries valiantly to delve into his vast lexicon to sum up his feelings, but draws a blank. 

John chuckles and says "My God, you are... _amazing_! You've left Sherlock Holmes speechless! The man who will outlive us all trying to have the last word has been rendered mute by a peck on the back of his hand." John returns Anna's gesture and smiles broadly. He claps Sherlock on the back and the two men file out, one after the other. Anna takes one last look, grabs her laptop and makes for the door. Shutting the light on her way out.

As she descends the staircase, Anna sees Mrs. Hudson at the foot of the stairs, arms outstretched. She bounds down the stairs directly into her arms. "Oh, Anna. Gonna miss you while you're gone."  
"I'll miss you too." Anna kisses the top of Mrs Hudson's head and gives her a squeeze.  
"Look after these two, dear. Keep them out of trouble. Especially this one..." She hugs Sherlock around his waist. "Haven't forgotten you, John." Mrs Hudson smoothes a hand up and down his jacket sleeve. Which reminds Anna that she needs her coat. She starts for her door when Sherlock steps directly in her path.  
"C'mon Wils, I need to get my coat. I'll be right back."  
"No need..."  
"Wha... Why?" Anna shakes her head and huffs.

"Why not wear my coat, Anna?" Sherlock holds his coat and allows Anna to turn ‘round and step into it. She slides her arms into the sleeves and shrugs the shoulders into place. Anna snuggles the collar under her chin and sighs happily.  
"Thank you Sherlock. How unexpected. And thoughtful..." Anna turns toward Sherlock and smiles. He quirks his chin and knits his brow before speaking.  
"You look quite nice in my coat, but erm... You're actually doing me a favor by wearing it because I'll not need to take up valuable space in my luggage, or in my garment bag." He chuckles uncomfortably and fidgets.

"That was impressive, Sherlock." John shakes his head.  
"Really?" Sherlock crinkles the top of his nose.  
"For all of about twenty seconds..." 

"Okay, enough of that. Let's head 'em up and move 'em out!" Says Anna, in a sing song. John imitates a whip crack. 

The trio gather their bags and move toward the door with Mrs Hudson following close behind. 

As they bring their bags to the curb, a black Jaguar with tinted windows rolls to a stop. The driver opens the boot, gets out and begins loading their bags.

"Wait-wait-wait-WAIT! What the actual fuck is going on here!?" John demands, through clenched teeth.

Anna and Sherlock's mobiles sing out with a shared ringtone. Both look at their screens for confirmation, then hold them up for the other to see. 

"Mycroft!" They mutter, in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Anna played:  
> ALICE IN CHAINS: WOULD? - DRUM COVER BY MEYTAL COHEN  
> http://youtu.be/VykooU6PhTM
> 
> The reference to the red toe shoe dangling from the doorknob is from "Dance Me On And On".  
> When Anna is busy behind a closed door and doesn't want to be disturbed she hangs a pointe shoe from the doorknob. A pink shoes means you can knock and come in. A red one means piss off. Sherlock knew the color code, and got pelted for his trouble. 
> 
> More notes later? 
> 
>  
> 
> Not Beta'd or Brit-picked.


	15. The Deception That Elevates Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft’s meddling has interfered with Sherlock's travel plans, and he's none too pleased with his officious older brother:
> 
> "Why have you done this... This thing with our travel arrangements?" Sherlock huffs.
> 
> "Exigencies, little brother. Things that cannot be helped. The timing of your little foray across the pond happens to be most advantagious, indeed..."  
> "And what if it had not been, _brother mine_?" Sherlock growls, through clenched teeth.  
>  "You needn't concern yourself with logistics, Sherlock. With a reading week in the offing, I knew the balance of probability was on my side of the equation." Mycroft smugly informs his sibling.

Sherlock's mobile rings and he answers immediately.  
"MYCROFT! What is the meaning of this?!" Sherlock demands, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. 

"Change of plan, brother mine."  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/5BC9A8D9-93C3-4A85-AA73-86C66FA515BC_zpsfcnvueyq.jpg.html)  
"You will no longer be queuing up with the great unwashed at Heathrow. You and your complement will be departing privately from RAF Northolt, instead. Sorry for any inconvenience. I assure you the amenities of your new arrangement will more than make up for any... _ruffled feathers_."

"This is Anna's first trip home since arriving in London, Mycroft. Your interference is unwarranted."  
"Be that as it may... I am in need of your particular skillset while you're in Washington, Sherlock."  
"I don't think involving Anna and her family in one of your intrigues is appropriate or necessary, Mycroft. John and I accept your officious interloping. Anna hasn't signed on for any of this. You've done enough damage already by placing her in the glide path of a known psycho."

Mycroft scoffs, and chuckles mirthlessly.

"I am not referring to myself, but that odious woman Catherine Tramell. But unless I miss my guess, that has nothing to do with your latest intrusion. Why have you done this... This ridiculous manipulation of our travel arrangements?"

"Exigencies, dear brother. Things that cannot be helped. The timing of your little foray across the pond happens to be most advantagious, indeed. Thus, you will be in the right place at an opportune moment to do a small favor for Queen and Country.  
"And if I'd not been, _brother mine_?"  
"You needn't worry yourself with logistics, Sherlock. With a reading week in the offing, the balance of probability was always on my side."  
"I'm not worried. As a matter of fact I don't give a tinkers damn what you've done. But John or Anna might..."  
"Somehow, I highly doubt that. Given the intensity of their flirtation I'd say they'd have quite a bit more on their minds of late."  
"By the by - Lovely gesture, that bit with the coat. She certainly wears it well. Doesn't she? Just oversized enough to appear comfy, but not look too ridiculous."  
"So now you're a fashion maven. That's a new skillset for you isn't it, Mycroft?" snarks Sherlock.  
"And you've become quite fond of the professor, have you not? Is she the reason you're sporting three day stubble?"  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20March/73B552AB-2A45-4AE3-A22E-EC23658A6813_zpszrkgvhrx.jpg.html)  
"Anna has an extraordinary intellect. I find her absolutely fascinating, and not the least bit boring. So, yes - I do enjoy her companionship, Mycroft." 

Mycroft allows Sherlock to blather interminably before interrupting. 

"That's an impressive list of superlatives, Sherlock. Tread lightly. Love triangles are such a messy business." Mycroft clucks his disapproval.  
"Fuck off, pisshead!" Sherlock hisses.

"Ahhh, how lovely. _Profanity_. Always the last bastion of the weak minded. Further evidence that you've already become far too involved. I've seen the signs before, Sherlock. I hope my intervention won't become necessary again this time. In many ways, I think you're still recovering from that debacle back at uni. One thing in Dr Eberhardt's favor? - She's not harboring an agenda of any sort. Hidden or otherwise. She seems as bemused by your current situation as Dr Watson and yourself. Perhaps you should be a bit more circumspect, little brother. A bit more close to the vest, as it were. Sharing your feelings and other things can give rise to... complications. We both know this _isn't your area_..."

"How would you know?" Sherlock sniffs.

"Do enjoy your flight. I'll be checking in as time allows." 

"Is today a five day or a two, Mycroft?"  
"WOT?!"  
"Treat yourself to a piece of cake, and a nice warm mug of Shut. The. Fuck. Up."  
Sherlock ends the call abruptly, shuts off his mobile and shoves it into a jacket pocket. He takes a deep breath, and slides into the car idling at the curb where John and Anna are already waiting. 

"What's going on, Sherlock?" John asks.  
"I'll explain when we get to the airfield. We're flying out on a private jet." He sighs.  
"Isn't that usually a good thing?" Anna shrugs.

"Remains to be seen..." Sherlock sighs with deep resignation.

He'd been looking forward to this trip. A chance to become familiar with Anna's beloved DC. A chance to breathe it in and feel the very beat of its quivering heart.  
But thanks to Mycroft, he casts aside any hope of truly enjoying his new surroundings because he must remain vigilant. For a short while, leastways. 

Sherlock settles in, and immediately retreats into his mind palace to pass the time while John and Anna banter cheerfully. Taking note of Sherlock's silence, Anna pats his knee, and rests her hand there. When she realizes where her hand is, she moves to take it away, but Sherlock stops her.

"I don't mind." He says. And places his hand over hers for the rest of the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catherine Tramell is referenced in ch6 - “Myc Check”:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2725463/chapters/6846932
> 
> Sherlock's scruffy face is mentioned in ch14 - “If I Would... Could You?”:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2725463/chapters/7794446
> 
> Not Beta'd or Britpicked  
> (A/N - chapter numbers have been reorganized because of a wee bit of tinkering, but the chapter names haven't changed.)


	16. Mysterious Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock worries about Mycroft's meddling, but isn't ready to talk about it:
> 
> "Dare I ask what's going on, Sherlock?" Anna wonders aloud.  
> "You may inquire. However, I am not in the mood at the moment, nor would be I inclined to elaborate if I were." Sherlock huffs.  
> "Way to lop Anna's head off, Sherlock. Nice going..." John shakes his head.
> 
> "Suffice it to say that we're in need of a private discussion about our upcoming plans as soon as time and propriety permit us to do so."  
> Sherlock turns away from the discussion and watches the scenery of the Dulles Toll Road whiz by.

Having landed at Dulles Airport, Anna bounds down the stairs from the plane, skipping the last two steps, lands on the tarmac and spins a pirouette. John deplanes somewhat more casually, but joins Anna in her delight to be on terra firma. The two look on as their bags are loaded into the back of an SUV with darkened windows.  


  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/912398F9-3B56-4FA7-892B-162A96B1498E_zpsqu6y6let.jpg.html)

Just as they wonder where Sherlock has gotten himself, the driver addresses the duo "We'll be be picking up Mr Holmes from the main terminal. Please, take a seat and I'll drive you 'round."

Both John and Anna shrug as the driver opens the passenger door for them, waits until they're seated comfortably and thoughtfully closes the door for them. As they make their way around the private aviation area, John looks over at Anna and smiles, basking in the reflected glow of her happiness. The vehicle queues up and slowly inches its way toward the main passenger terminal, where Sherlock stands waiting with a bundle under his arm. The car stops and John flings open the door for Sherlock. The doctors budge over to allow ample room for the detective and then buckle themselves in. There's an unspoken air of mystery looming between them, but Anna leans forward, turns toward Sherlock, and wades in "So, whatcha got there, Wils?" 

"Oh. Umm... my violin. Mycroft had it sent ahead. Apparently I'll be needing it while we're here."  
"Dare I ask, Sherlock?" Anna wonders aloud.  
"You may inquire. I am not in the mood nor am I inclined to elaborate at the moment. Suffice it to say that we're in need of a private discussion about our plans for the upcoming days as soon as time and propriety permit."  
"Mycroft strikes again, eh?" John shrugs, and shakes his head.

Anna sighs, and stares blankly out of the window, in almost the same pose as Sherlock when they left Iceland. Anna's phone pings with a short email from her brother Jason:  


Wassup Baby Gurl! Parked your whip at the brewhouse. Burgers are on on me.  
Bring me a growler of IPA. See ya when I see ya! - Jay 

Anna giggles with sheer delight and leans forward to inform the driver of their destination. 

"Okay guys, we're going to pick up my car and have a bite to eat. How's that sound?"  
"I'm up for it, where are we off to?" asks John.  
"Dogfish Head Alehouse. Dinner is on my big bro tonight!"  
"Sounds like fun. I am a bit peckish."  
"Kewl-NESS!" Anna cheers, as she wriggles in her seat. But when She looks across at Sherlock for his reaction, she becomes a bit more sedate. "Sherlock?" She reaches across John's lap and squeezes Sherlock's thigh. "Hey, you in there? Whoo-hoo?" she cajoles.  
"Yes. Mmm? Fine..." his preoccupied reply. 

Anna whispers into John's ear, and both unbuckle their seat belts. In a very well timed bit of jostling, the two switch places, with Anna now seated between the doctor and the detective.  
"Sherlock, you look so far away. What's going on in that curly head of yours?" Anna softly inquires.  
"Sorry. I'm rather distracted with thoughts of Mycroft's meddling. He's got plans for us to help him pull off some fantastic scheme of his. I tried very hard to dissuade him, but he remains steadfast in the notion that our assistance is required."  
"Should we be concerned?"  
"It doesn't sound dangerous, but might be tedious."  
"Well, okay... No worries, then?"  
"No." he sighs.  
Anna smoothes a hand over Sherlock's shoulder and rests her head there, then quirks a devilish grin and reaches for Sherlock's nose. "BOOP!"  
John chuckles, and Sherlock screws his eyes shut before giving in and joining John's laughter.

"Change of plan! Let's get our burgers and a couple of growlers as take-away, yeah? Do not pass go, get burgers and beer head directly to my brother's house, freshen up and dig in? Whaddaya think fellas?"  
"Brilliant idea, Anna! Let's do!" John enthuses.  
"Sounds... doable." mutters Sherlock.

"Alrighty, then. I'll call ahead. When we get there, I'll breeze in and take care of dinner, while you load our bags into my car. Deal?"  
"Sounds like a plan!" John agrees.

Sherlock barely nods as he stares out of the car window at the scenery whizzing past. Anna scrolls through the contacts on her phone and orders their meal. She places her wireless earpiece, and allows her phone to go into sleep mode. "It's handled" she announces confidently. The rest of the ride to the brewpub passes in silence, but the crackle of anticipation has Anna almost giddy. But Sherlock's mood is concerning to her. She turns, give his shoulder a slight squeeze, and strokes the shell of his ear. He closes his eyes and hums slightly. She turns her attention to John, who is grinning ear to ear. He looks relaxed, and is chipper as Sherlock is morose. 

When they reach the restaurant car park Anna sees her car for the first time in months and is overjoyed.

  
[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/D73E7F86-EA2C-4352-B911-8AE236889AD3_zps4zofi1km.jpg.html)

The SUV barely rolls to a stop before she is unbuckled and climbing over John to get out. She takes a remote out of her pocket, opens he lift gate and makes for the restaurant to pick up their order. 

Sherlock and John take the opportunity to have a quick chat. 

"Sherlock, what's going on, mate?" John claps Sherlock on the shoulder, and gives a gentle pat, but Sherlock continues loading bags as if he'd not heard John's question.  
"C'mon, then. Out with it. Something's bugging you..." John insists.  
"Not now, JOHN!" Sherlock barks.

John steps back and throws his hands up, but thinks better of it, steps directly in front of his woebegone friend and offers words of encouragement.  
"Cheer up, mate! We're here! Visiting Anna's hometown! Mycroft's intrusion be damned. I am here to relax, and enjoy myself. I might suggest you do the same. Did she tell you about the indoor lap lane at her brother's house? Jeezus, Sherlock! Anna in a bathing suit?! Ohhh, the legs on that one." John closes his eyes, lolls his head back and sighs. Sherlock quirks his chin and raises a brow at the thought.  
"Oi! I saw that, you git... Tell me you're not looking forward to that, and I'll call you a liar."  
"I must admit, the prospect of seeing her dressed in dancewear, or perhaps a bathing suit does hold _some_ slight appeal. Strictly for future reference, of course."  
"Are you kidding me right now, Sherlock? Future reference, eh? Didn't know your mind palace had a wank bank, mate..." John gives Sherlock a playful swat to the shoulder. Sherlock smirks devilishly and the two men begin to chuckle. Anna appears moments later laden with bags of food and chilled growlers of various craft beers. John and Sherlock each take a bag, and attempt to quiet their giggling, but it doesn't last. A knowing look passes between the men and they begin anew. 

"What're you two on about? You look like a pair of wily old cats that've gotten into the cream."

With that, John screws his eyes shut and laughs out loud. Sherlock quirks his chin and shakes his head as he tries valiantly not to give away the tone or content of his conversation with John. Whatever the reason, Anna seems pleased that Sherlock has been lifted out of the doldrums.

"You two get a momentary reprieve, but don't think for a moment that I won't ask you later what's so effin' funny. After a bit of social lubrication, I'm gonna expect some answers" she winks.  
"JAWN! She... She said... _Lubrication_!" Sherlock chortles, in a rumbly baritone.  
"Sherlock... You big wanker!" John howls with laughter and slaps his knees.  
"Exactly my point, Jawn!" 

  
[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/B44D82AA-DAD9-450D-8498-8CD94B9855B4_zpslu62qytp.jpg.html)

" _BASTA!_!" Anna yells. She doesn't know why, but she joins the merriment, enjoying the deep laughter of the doctor and their detective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dogfish Head Alehouse? It's a thing:
> 
>   
>  [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/D891FF0C-62F7-4438-B959-12EECB0DE3AA_zpslrkryihc.jpg.html)   
> 
> 
> Not Beta'd... 


	17. Meet the Gal Pals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna has invited a few Gal Pals over to fill her in on what she's missed while working on her Post-Doc in London. Libations flow freely, and tongues loosen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Deanna"  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/D051B9C6-690B-4AD3-94C1-2B5A57D80B64_zpsxdjlscst.jpg.html)
> 
> "Tasha"  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/DCA85B12-C671-49C7-BDC0-0AFC065300EC_zpsafecynj7.jpg.html)  
> 
> 
> "Jordan"  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2016%20-%20February/2FB27DD9-04BE-46D4-ABF2-A4348417AE26_zps893kgdoy.jpg.html)   
>    
> "Jamilah"  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/C5B761BD-BE2F-47E0-A28E-1F3B37C2DA45_zpsr04h5jmz.jpg.html)  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/9B8A2EA7-3BDD-474E-925E-0829DE8D0009_zpsytercawx.jpg.html)  
> 
> 
> "Lori"  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/DCA98152-6801-4352-ADDD-22E7842033BF_zps6ibxhjxv.jpg.html)
> 
> And, of course... "Anna"  
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/38E592FA-C575-4B4E-BAE1-356BDC2D20B9_zpscaefdp3s.jpg.html)  
> 

"Anna! I'm glad to see you! It's been too long!" Anna hugs her friend Lori, takes her car keys, and ushers her into the living room with the rest of their rowdy cabal. 

"Lori! Heyyyy!" whoops Jordan. "Gurl! Sit yo' ass down and pour a glass." She slides a wine glass over to Lori by a coaster, and proceeds to gossip.  
"Gurrrrl Fa-rend! Anna brought her housemates home with her. You should see these two. Hawtness!"

"There you go Jordi... Always startin' stuff." Anna chides.  
"Deanzie, am I lying?" Jordan asks with a shrug.  
"No. Shut up and drink" Deanna snarks.  
"Mmmm." Jordan sips her wine and snuggles into the sofa. "Sher-lock Holmes and John Watson. Sherlock is a chemist who solves crimes for Scotland Yard, and John is a GP like you, Jamilah. Cal hooked our girl up with a Post-Doc in the psych department at University College London. Congrats on the doctorate, by the way."  
"Thanks. But do shut up..." Anna quips.

Jordan cackles with delight and sips her wine as she encourages her friends to badger Anna for details. But Anna flips the script in an attempt to draw everyone's attention to other news.

"So, Jamilah... You and Tasha did the damn thing and jumped the broom! I'm so happy for you. How does it feel?" Anna effervesces. 

Jamilah turns to her wife, pulls her in for a hug and sweetly kisses her forehead.

"We don't _feel_ any different, but knowing that we have legal protections is a big relief. Especially after that incident at the ER last year. I just wish..." Jamilah's voice breaks, and her wife gives her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "It's okay baby, I'm still here. Still here..." Natasha leans in and lays her head on Jamilah's shoulder. 

"Yeah, that broke my heart a little. People can be stunningly ignorant, and cruel. Funny how folks who go on and on about being "Old School" are just bragging about how intolerant and inflexible they are. What they should say is 'I'm a fuckwit stuck in the middle of last century, and don't give a damn what you think' Mmmm..." Anna shakes her head. "Pass me a glass please, Deanzie..." 

Deanna reaches over to a side table, fetches up a double old fashioned glass, and passes it over to Anna, who makes herself a drink. She begins by setting down the glass, then fills it with ice, pours lukewarm coffee from a carafe and tops it with a glug of Bailey's. She swirls the concoction around and raises her glass for a toast. 

"Ladies, here's to true love. May it find us all, and may we have the courage to..."  
"Girl, puh-leeze..." Jordan interrupts. "May we have the lady balls to walk up to it, smack it on the ass and ride it ‘til the damn wheels fall off!" 

The women laugh as they raise their glasses. "To true love!" 

"Finding it..." nods Deanna.  
"Admitting it..." shrugs Anna.  
"Lettin' it do what it do!" Lori and Jordan fist bump.

"Speaking of smackin' dat ass, where's Sherlock and John? And which one is tappin' yo ass Miss Thang?" Jordan snarks.  
"First, the guys are down at the studio with Jay. Probably poring over models of his latest project, drinking scotch, and smoking stanky cigars. Next, and most important? Ain't nobody tapping nuthin' ovah here. You like trying my nerves, dontcha, Jordi?"  
"Somebody has to. Tonight, that's my job. Besides, I call bullshit... Do you really want us to believe that you're living pretty much in the same house as these two fine ass specimens of manhood, leave your door unlocked at all hours, but you're not knocking boots with either one? Hmmph..." 

"I've got tea on that! ‘Scuse me while I pour some..." Deanna adds.  
"Ooo, gurl! This oughta be good! I'll have a sip of that!" Jordan smiles wickedly.

"Deanna! Don't!... _Do. Not._ " Anna glares at her bestie, but Deanna quirks a brow and proceeds to dish up details.

"She's not lying. Technically, she's not _doing the deed_ , but she's got a little sump'n-sump'n going on, though. They flirt, they dance, and one of them..."

Anna's eyes fly open wide, and she admonishes Deanna. "We are sooo not doin' this! Pump yer brakes, girlfriend."  
" _Technically_ , Anna?! Oh, no. Now you've gotta spill...!" Lori chuckles.

"She's piqued our curiosity. C'mon Anna. Don't leave us hangin'..." Tasha chimes in.  
"Hear me now, and believe me later - I'ma getchu for this Deanzie."  
"I know, hun-bun. I know..." Deanna blows Anna a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Anna and her brothers entertain, they ask that guests surrender their car keys to ensure no one drives impaired.  
> More on that in “Dance Me On & On” - http://archiveofourown.org/works/2337065/chapters/5150261
> 
> The party's just getting started. It's early in the evening, and then there's breakfast the next day. ;~>
> 
> Jump The Broom:  
> Denotes an antebellum marriage ritual used by African-American slaves, who were often prevented from legally marrying.  
> With wide variations, the basic feature of the ritual was that the marriage union was solemnized by a young couple leaping together over a broom. This would be done in the context of a family gathering.  
> Widely practiced in the American South, the ritual may have an African origin, or it may have been adapted from a similar ancient Celtic fertility ritual. 
> 
> "Jumping the Broom" is currently enjoying a resurgence in popularity as a tribute to the customs of American slaves. - Urban Dictionary
> 
>  
> 
> *Not Beta'd*


	18. Catch The Mystery, Catch The Drift: A John, Sherlock & Jay Vignette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After giving the doctor and the consulting detective an extensive tour of his house, Anna's brother Jason finds respite with his guests in his on site studio while she catches up with her gal pals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the “Reading Week” one-shots. Action takes place in Washington, DC.

"So, Sherlock... Doctor Watson... How's your visit going?" asks Jason.  
"Fine, fine thank you. And please, call me John." John reaches out for a web-to-web handshake. Sherlock follows suit.  
"Great. Nice to finally meet you two in person." Jason returns the gesture, and claps Sherlock on the shoulder with a wink.  
"It's nice to have a little down time." John chuckles. "I've never been to Washington before. And, WOW! What a lovely, spacious home you have. Makes me think Anna must be a bit cramped on Baker Street, but she's made a home for herself. She's a remarkable woman, Jay. What was she like as a kid, growing up?"

After giving the doctor and the consulting detective an extensive tour of the house, peppered with tales of Anna as a youngling, John and Sherlock find respite with Anna's brother in his on site studio while she settles in and catches up with her gal pals. The three men decide to pop into the small building, and make themselves comfortable in Jason's office while they continue to become better acquainted.  


[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/87426D3C-9C7F-445B-912F-54F80B68FD0A_zpsz8432q1e.jpg.html)

Jay sweeps both men into his office, then graciously offers them a seat and a drink.

"First things first! Scotch, anyone? I have bottle of Laphroaig Triple Wood tucked away here, somewhere. Anna loves this stuff. Apparently, one of her favorite spies drinks the stuff. It isn't for the timid, that's for sure." 

"Favorite spy?" Sherlock crinkles his nose, leans back, props his elbows on the armrests on either side of him, and steeples his fingers beneath his chin.  
"Jonathan Hemlock?" asks John.  
"Gold star for Doctor Watson!" Jay clicks his tongue, and smiles as he searches for his long lost potent potable. 

Though he finds watching Anna's brother lifting stacks, shuffling objects and searching desk drawers, somewhat amusing, Sherlock glides confidently across the room to a bookcase, shifts three of the volumes, and fetches up the missing bottle. He then presents it to his host with a quirked brow and a wink. 

"How on earth did you find this, Sherlock? I'd have been opening drawers and peeking into cubbies all night looking for the damned thing. Thanks, man." Jay sets the bottle down, offers Sherlock a bro-hug - a web to web handshake, two claps between the shoulders, and a shoulder nudge. 

"It was simple deduction, really" he boasts.  
"Show off..." John shakes his head.

"Having just been made aware of her taste for spy thriller parodies, knowing her love of dance, and her propensity to be prepared - I was naturally led to look behind "The Loo Sanction", "London A to Zed", and "Life in Motion: An Unlikely Ballerina". Also, she's a bit cheeky, and would have hiden the best Scotch from you, just for laughs. If she were here, I feel certain that she'd ' _BOOP_ ' you, Jay."  
"That's my Bae! Man, she's a handful." Jay laughs out loud. "Sometimes I don't know if I wanna hug her and laugh with her, or sit her down for a time out."  
"I've experienced that conundrum myself. On more than one occasion..." adds Sherlock.  
"He has, indeed. You should see these two, Jay. Anna said it's like a pitcher shaking off signals from behind home plate." John's eyes sparkle, barely smothering a giggle.  
"JAWN!" Sherlock rumbles.

"Seriously, Sherlock? That was... amazing as ever" John smiles. "I'm with Jay. I'd never have thought to have connect the dots that way." John shakes his head in amazement, and chuckles.  
"You made a rhyme, Jawn."  
"Not on purpose, you git."  
"Is it not conventional to make a wish after such an occurrence?"  
"Yeah it is." John pauses for a moment and closes his eyes. Then he smiles, and lifts a brow.

"What did you wish for, John?"  
"If you know the tradition, you know I can't tell you. And why."  
"Don't be silly, John. It's just some silly old superstition."  
"You're the one that brought it up. Superstition or no, still not telling."  
Sherlock shrugs and rolls his eyes.

While the doctor and the detective continue their banter, Jay opens a hidden mini fridge, retrieves three chilled glasses, and three silicone orbs from the freezer. He unmolds the orbs into the glasses, revealing three crystal clear spheres of ice. Then pours two fingers of the lusciously smokey liquor into each glass.  
"Normally I'd ask if you prefer your Scotch neat, but this stuff is really aggressive. The ice doesn't water it down, but tames it just enough to allow you to sip leisurely." 

Jay hands a glass to Sherlock, and another to John. Taking their cues from Jay, they swirl the ice sphere a bit, sniff, and take a long thoughtful sip.

"Mmmm. That's nice. Yeah... Oh yeah." John closes his eyes as he sips, hums a bit and nods. Sherlock continues to swirl his glass gently. When he tentatively lifts the glass to his lips, he inhales the warm peat smell as he allows the liquid to coat his tongue. He furrows his brow for a microsecond, quirks his chin, and rests his glass on his knee. 

Jay offers a napkin, and Sherlock graciously accepts. 

"So, John. I've not forgotten the question you'd asked me a while back. But, I'd really like to tell you about Anna as a teenager."  
"Sure. Yeah, that'd be great..." John slides forward in his chair and crosses his legs toward Jay, angling his foot at Sherlock.

"My sister as a teenager... Wow, man. Where to begin?" Jay takes a deep breath and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tells stories about how deeply he and his sibs loved their parents, and how unconventional they were as a family. Then he pauses thoughtfully, and launches into an important set piece about Anna: 

"One weekend morning our parents were on their way home from a party with friends of theirs. A truck had jack-knifed. It blocked the entire roadway in front of them, but our Father managed to stop the car without incident. Unfortunately, a drunk sleepy driver plowed into them and pushed them about fifty feet. Right into the side of the truck. They were crushed instantly." Jay closes his eyes and lowers his head as he speaks. Though the pain and grief of recounting the incident weigh heavily, he takes a beat to gather his composure before continuing the narrative.  
"Anna found out that she'd earned early acceptance to Cornell at the start of her Junior year of high school. She was really excited, but she hadn't told our folks yet. She was going to tell them when they got home, and was preparing a big lunch for the five of us when we'd gotten news of the accident."

John's face goes slack, and the colour drains from his features. Sherlock raises his eyebrows and his eyes fly open wide as he listens to Jason quietly speak of his beloved sibling.

"The most remarkable thing? Instead of graduating early - she decided to fill her schedule with extra classes, and graduate with her friends. She stayed behind to make sure that my brother Anthony and I were taken care of." 

"I hardly know what to say about that, Jay. I've always admired her strength and compassion, but never knew this about her. I am... I'm..." Words fail him. John scrubs a hand over his face, then scratches the top of his head as he sinks down into his chair. Sherlock hooks his thumb under his chin, and covers his mouth with the rest of his slender fingers as he takes in the information proffered with great deliberation. 

"Look, guys... I'm not trying to turn Anna into a movie of the week sob sister. We know she's anything but that. She's gutsy, loyal, and one of the hardest working people I've ever known. There is no quit in this woman. She's my ride or die. How do you guys say it? Ummm..."  
"Full. Stop." Sherlock rumbles.  
"That's the one." Jay smiles. 

The three men sit in silence as they sip, and consider their mutual admiration of the behaviorist. 

"Jay, your sister is a remarkable woman. She's very singular. Lovely, and exceptionally bright."  
"How cliché, JAWN!"

Both Jason and John turn to look at Sherlock nearly identically bemused.

"Lightbulbs are bright, John. Andromeda radiates confidence. She's intense, creative, exacting, and tremendously intellectual. I find "fascinating" or "brilliant" much more astute descriptors."

As the men carry on their conversation, the room next to them becomes a sudden hive of activity. Barely a hint of squeals, giggles, and raucous laughter filter through the walls as Anna and her gal pals change into their swimwear. 

"The ladies have descended upon our happy place en masse, it seems." Sherlock observes.  
"What are they on about over there, Jay. Sounds like a bloody slumber party."  
"Close enough. They're either getting ready to go for a quick dip in the lap lane, or cram themselves into the sauna." 

" _Lap lane ___..." John and Sherlock utter aloud. In unison. Almost reverently.

"Hey man... Have you seen her friends? Holy Mother of, geeze I dunno..." Jay smiles devilishly.  
"Aren't you married, Jason?" Sherlock inquires.  
"Yo! I'm married, not blind. These ladies have it going on. And on, and on..." Jay takes his last sip and sets down the glass, sending the remnants of the ice orb rattling around for good measure. "Hey, uhhh... You guys wanna join them? Did you bring something to swim in?"

"Well, sure. But I'm not wearing it under my clothes just now." John chuckles uncomfortably, and bounces in his seat a little.  
"Somehow, I'd doubt they'd notice your skivvies. If you really want, you can get undressed and beat them to the punch. You'd be in the water well before they're finished all their primping and preening. 

John's eyes light up, but Sherlock screws up his face and shakes his head. A glimmer of recognition crosses John's face, and he moves to reassure his friend.  
"Sherlock, you can wear my vest, mate. Would that help?"  
"Yes. Thank you, John."  
"We all good?" Jay asks.  
"I think so... Sherlock?" 

Sherlock didn't need to be prompted. He toes off his shoes, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Are you not joining us, Jay?"  
"No-no-no!" He waves his hands and chortles. "You're jokin' me. Right? Anna would have my head. I'm gonna look into putting together some noshes for everyone. You two have a good time, and enjoy the scenery. Oh! Before I forget - there are robes, fresh towels and flip flops in my bathroom. Just through there..." Jay points to a dimly lit doorway across the room. "By the by- If you really wanna have a little fun... Pick Anna up and give her a good spin. She hates being snatched off her feet. She will squeal like a schoolgirl, guaranteed!" Jay smiles impishly.  
"Dunno ‘bout that, Jay..." John disapproves of his host's suggestion, but secretly wonders if he could get away with it.  
"Awww! C'mon, Y'all... Have a little fun." He chuckles. "Tell her thanks for the Scotch. She'll get it."  
"Jason, is it your contention that either John or myself should willingly become collaborators in your sibling squabble?" Sherlock asks, very pointedly. The detective has fresh memories of being pelted with flying drumsticks, and is not anxious to have a similar experience.  
"Does that bother you, Sherlock?" Jay winks.  
"Oddly, not as much as it should." Sherlock dips his chin and quirks a roguish grin.

John stands, and offers Jay a handshake while Sherlock sits, impatiently drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair as he waits for John to wade through niceties and hand over the agreed upon garment.  
Both men peel off their clothes. Sherlock tidies and smoothes his outfit, while John casually flings his over the back of his chair. As Sherlock pulls John's vest over his head, John pads over to the en suite for robes. The duo shrug the robes on, then make their way to the lap lane, where they bump into Anna in the hallway.

[ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20June/ED49137A-9017-4C68-B165-AC180235BA8C_zpslgoshx7e.jpg.html)

"Hey!" Anna steps forward and pecks both men on the cheek. "I didn't know you were hangin' out down here!" she enthuses.  
"Yeah, erm... Your brother gave us a look-see and then brought us to his office to give you and your friends a little privacy." John simpers.  
"Looks like you found everything okay, then?" She thoughtfully inquiries, her voice rising at the end of the sentence. Both men nod. "Good. Gotta get back to my rowdy ass gal pals. See you in a few minutes, though." Anna smiles as she smoothes a hand up and down each man's arm, before leaning in for a hug. "I'm so glad you're here." she mumbles into John's neck. "You too, Wils..." She ruffles the taller man's hair, spins on her heel and starts back toward her friends.

Sherlock and John turn to each other then to watch Anna's bum undulate lusciously as she walks away.  
"Yep. Told ya Sherlock." John says as he licks his lips somewhat salaciously.  
"What's that look about, Jawn?" Sherlock quirks a curious brow before realizing why John's pupils are dilated, and has a self satisfied smile on his face. "Oh. _Ohhh!_ "  
"Now, Sherlock - tell me again that wishes don't come true..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/D73552DB-E3E5-4583-93E8-3BE74B794FDF_zps2zf4gims.jpg.html)  
>   
>  More notes later. The dog ate my homework :~P
> 
> Un-Beta'd... (editing later with fresh eyes)  
>  _Ride or Die_ :  
> The people in your life who are there through thick in thin. They'll do whatever it takes to make it through with you. The ones that'll stick it through ‘til the end.  
> “We've been through a lot. She's truly my **_Ride or Die_** ”  
> ~Urban Dictionary
> 
> “The Loo Sanction” is an actual book:  
> http://www.trevanian.com/books/loo.htm
> 
> http://laphroaig.com/whiskies/triple-wood.aspx?mode=video
> 
> BTW: In my AU, Sherlock has scars on his back from being tortured in Eastern Europe after the fall. And let's not forget that bullet hole...


	19. The Morning After The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of merriment with Sherlock, John and her rowdy gal pals, Anna awakens with her head throbbing like a bass drum. How did she get to her bedroom, and who'd put on her nightshirt and knickers? 
> 
> What she learns from The Doctor and The Detective is interesting indeed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of "Reading Week Adventures"
> 
> John, Sherlock and Anna are still in Washington, DC on Holiday.

Anna stirs limply and looks across her pillow. She finds herself staring directly into John Watson's gorgeous sapphire blue peepers. John is a tad too chipper for Anna's reckoning.  
She blinks the last bits of sleep from her eyes, as her brain reboots for the day. Wondering all the while how she'd gotten from the laplane up to her room. Who'd put on her nightshirt and panties? And OMFG!... Her head was throbbing to the rhythm of a samba. Or was it a merengue? 

"Jay-zus Fookin' Croist!" Anna mumbles into her pillow in a pitch perfect brogue.  
John laughs out loud and rubs a gentle, soothing circle between Anna's shoulder blades. "She speaks!" John chuckles. "Mornin' luv. Ready to get the day started, then?"  
"Hell and NO!" Anna answers, in muted protest. "How... How did I get to my room last night?"  
"Don't you mean this morning, Anna?" Sherlock rumbles from their Jack-n-Jill en suite. "I believe it was within the timeframe you refer to as ‘O-dark Stoopid’"  
"Okay. Sometime between four and six?" Anna asks, trying to jog her cloudy memory.  
"Yes, that would be a very astute estimate." Sherlock states rather blandly.  
"But, how did I wind up here in my bed? I could've easily racked out in the guest room. And who changed me into my nightclothes?" 

Anna's questions are very pointed, but her tone is one of genuine puzzlement rather than accusatory aggression. So far, leastways. 

John and Sherlock glance at each other conspiratorially. The look that passes between them is the same one they've used when talking to Lestrade. Both men deciding on the fly to parse answers only as asked, and even then - tread lightly. This could go extraordinarily well, or pear shaped somewhat quickly. 

Anna sits up and glares at Sherlock, as he pokes his head out of the bathroom door, then looks John directly in the eyes.  
"Okay, lookit... I don't know what that hinky look was, but somebody bettah start splainin' right damned now, or things are gonna get... What's that word you like Sherlock?"  
"Indecorous?" He quizzes.  
"Yep. _That._ That exactly." 

Anna falls back down to the bed dramatically and throws her forearm across her eyes.  
"John?"  
"Yes, luv..."  
"Can you bring me a couple aspirin, and a glass of water?"  
"Of course."

John scrabbles over to the en suite, and Anna opens the drawer to a bedside table. She uncaps a tiny vial, and quickly dabs on one of her custom scent combinations.  
John and Sherlock are in the en suite working in tandem to fulfill Anna's request. Moments later, they arrive at her bedside. John presents the aspirin to Anna, and Sherlock hands her a drink of cool water in her favorite cup. She manages half a smile as she accepts the offerings, then beckons the duo to join her by budging over and patting the mattress next to her.  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/BB0F787D-4374-46B2-8AA1-9DF834E705A3_zpso8nn8csg.jpg.html)

John fluffs up a stack of pillows and plops down next to Anna, while Sherlock tentatively stretches out at the foot of the bed.

"So, this is it, then? Today's the day." Anna wonders aloud.  
"The day for?..." John purses his lips together in a thin line and looks at Anna quizzically.  
"Our oft delayed much needed discussion?" She asks.  
"About?" Sherlock chimes in.  
"Us. The the three of us. Before we go into details about last evening, I'd like to at least start a conversation about us. We've got a very odd, vaguely triangular energy going on, and I'd like to get it sorted. Or at least address where we stand."  
"Not one to muck about are you, luv?" John smiles.  
"I kinda think it's one of my better qualities." Anna shrugs.  
"Well, your tendency to be straightforward is indeed quite admirable, Anna. I've come to appreciate your ability to cut to the chase, but leave egos in tact. Something I still have trouble with, were I being perfectly honest." Sherlock pulls himself up on an elbow as he speaks, and ruffles his hair with his free hand. 

"Let me start by saying that I'm still a bit groggy, but I'll try my very best to make sense. Geeeze, my head is pounding like a kick drum right now." she sighs. "Anyone wanna go first?" Anna looks over to Sherlock, then John. "No? Okay, I'll keep going. Feel free to jump in anytime." she shrugs again.

Sherlock closes his eyes, shakes his head and sighs deeply. John quirks his chin and leans back on his stack of pillows. Both wait for Anna to begin her dissertation.  
"Are we allowed to use the 'L-word?' Because I don't think we'll advance the conversation if we keep tap dancing 'round it. Agreed?"

John lifts his chin, blinks and nods.  
"Sherlock?..."  
"Yes. Fine. Off you go..." He waves a hand at her.  
"Okay. We have an interesting love thingy going on here. I mean, seriously? Sherlock, I met you first, but you were dead set against liking me at all when I wound up on your doorstep. True?"  
"True- _ish ___." he rumbles.  
"John. Mmm... Where to begin?" Anna's eyes light up and she grins.  
"The beginning please, Doctor Eberhardt." Sherlock sniffs.  
"Right. The long and the short of it is this... Um. No pun intended." 

John chuckles softly, and Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Sherlock - you find me intellectually stimulating, are fascinated by my physical form, but your orientation precludes you from indulging in any form of sexual intimacy. But we've been extraordinarily intimate, haven't we? You've slept in my bed, you allow me to feed you, and we dance with reckless abandon on occasion. You help me with my studies, and I help you with The Work. Fair enough?"  
"Yes. Quite succinctly put." he agrees

"John? We share The Work, but have our own interests too."  
"Our work with Doctors Against Torture? Yes. Couldn't ask for a better colleague and helpmate, Anna." John reaches for Anna's hand and laces their fingers together

"Here's where things get a little catty-wampas. John, you would. But we don't. Though maybe we _might_?  
Sherlock? You don't. Have no desire to, and that's okay. "  
"I know it's okay..." he retorts.  
"But, if John and I become physically intimate, what would that mean for us Sherlock? And, John... What about my relationship with Sherlock would no longer be acceptable if we took things to another level? Confusing as this might sound - I like things the way they are. Is that totally selfish? I don't want some ridiculous grand declaration of love everlasting, I just wanna understand things." Anna sniffles as her eyes well up with tears.  
"How can you navigate such a complex thought process with a bloody hangover? I'm sober as a judge, and this is doin' my head in." John surmises.  
"Don't be ridiculous, John. Obviously this scenario has weighed heavily on her." Sherlock's features soften a bit, and something very closely replicating compassion kicks in. "Look at her John." Sherlock swings his feet around, hops out of bed and takes the few step required to stand next to Anna, only to perch himself next to her on the bed. Placing her literally, and metaphorically between the doctor and the detective.  
She makes room for his lithe rangy frame, but Sherlock decides to budge up firmly in Anna's space bubble. He lays his head on her shoulder almost sweetly, and drapes his arm around her somewhat protectively. In something akin to a claiming gesture. When Sherlock gives her a squeeze, that's all it takes for warm salty tears to begin trickling freely down the apples of her cheeks. Her chin quivers a bit, and other than that, she's not being demonstrative in the least. She sniffles a bit, and dabs at her eyes with the hem of her nightshirt.  
"Ugh! I'm sorry guys. I thought I'd was gonna be gutsy and fierce like a film noir heroine. All stoic and sexy while spitting out snark in a clipped smoky contralto. But instead, I'm just sitting here babbling and whinging and fuckin' crying. Sloppy drunks are so gross."

"No, you're doing fine, luv." John pecks Anna's forehead, and leisurely smoothes a hand up and down her thigh. "For fuck's sake, you're a lot more clear headed than I could ever have hoped to be."  
"Especially after the night you had." Sherlock adds, sotto voce.

"Yeah. About that... Was I horrible? I remember music, and dancing and laughing. And, umm I may have had a sip or two of the odd adult bev." Anna giggles.  
"You were fine. It was great fun meeting your friends. I never knew you could be so... Uh..." John scrubs his hand over his head as he tries to find the words.  
"You're parsing, John." Anna tilts her head and raises a brow. As usual, Sherlock wades in unapologetically and sets the record straight."Well, you met us on the way to the pool, then went back to attend your gal pals. Quite a giggly bunch for professional women of a certain age."  
"Being a bit blotto tends to inspire social levity, Sherlock." Anna folds her arms in front of her and crosses her ankles.  
"Well, John and I wanted to get to the pool first, in order that we not draw attention to our lack of traditional swimwear. Before you appeared, music came blaring out of the speakers and you and your friends entered the pool singing. In harmony, no less."  
"Lovely, lovely voices, you lot." John confirms, with a grin.  
"Thank-you, John. Some of us have sung in various choral groups around the DC area. If we're hangin' out, eventually someone bursts into song. A Cappella music is kinda a thing with us."  
"So there'll be more singing, then?" John asks, utterly smitten.  
"Probably. But we're wandering off topic. What happened next?" Anna shrugs impatiently.  
"Your friend Natasha decided she wanted into the pool, and decided the best way would be a cannonball to the middle." Sherlock drones.

"Oh no. I remember that." Anna gasps, slightly embarrassed.  
John chuckles as he recounts events from last evening. "A couple of your friends wound her up a bit. Egging her on by saying 'Oh... Don't do it!' Then she did. And you all cackled like a gaggle of hens saying -"  
"Oh My GAWD!!" Anna covers her mouth with both hands and laughs out loud.  
"Yes, that. Precisely _that_. Watching a woman of such heft hurtling through the air was impressive. One might say she was almost graceful. Though the resultant splash and the wave to follow was tremendous." Sherlock rumbles.

"Oh no. I can't!" Anna waves her arms and laughs. "Then, her wife Jamilah jumped in after her. Right? They were snogging and pawing at each other like teenagers. Omigosh, the look on your face, Sherlock!" Anna continues snickering, and dabs the corners of her eyes again. This time, with tears of raucous laughter.  
"Hmmm. Well, then you coaxed me out of the pool and we may have danced a bit." Sherlock reluctantly admits.  
"More than a bit, you feckin' showoff. You danced with Anna, then with Jordan. Jordan got a bit jealous, though. And hip checked you two into the pool." John chortles.  
"I'm sorry Sherlock. Are you okay?" Anna's laughing peters out, giving way to genuine concern for the detective. She strokes his hair, and turns to kiss the top of his head.  
"I'm fine, Anna. It was all in fun. But the festivities at the pool ended there."  
"I shudder to think what came next" she winces.  
"We all came back into the house and had a bite or two to eat." John adds, picking up the narrative.  
"Jay! He made some pretty righteous yummables for us. Almost too pretty to eat." Anna nods.  
"Yummables? That's such an interesting word, Anna." John nods. "But yes, he'd put out quite a spread. Trays full of delicious tiny nibbles. It was..." 

_"Yummable!_ " Sherlock and Anna laugh in unison.  
"What happened next, John? How did I wind up out of my bathing suit and in my nightclothes?"  
"We chatted to a few of your friends, and had a bite or two. There was singing and more dancing. And eventually everyone had gone up to bed, except you and Sherlock."  
"JOHN! What. Happened. Next?" Anna insists.  
"Sherlock hadn't come up for bed, so I came back downstairs. Found you and this one asleep in the home theatre." John shoves Sherlock with his foot.  
"C'mon! Then what?"  
"He woke us rather unceremoniously" barks Sherlock, through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring. He shoves John back with his foot.  
"Stoppit! Right bloody now!" Anna admonishes. "Sorry. John, you were saying?"  
"I was able to rouse this git, but you were a bit legless. Anyroad, Jay came down, scooped you off the chaise and carried you like a sack of potatoes, up here to your room, plopped you down, laughed a bit, and closed the door on his way out."  
"After which, John was thoroughly irritated, and a little perplexed because he didn't want to leave you sprawled across your bed semi conscious clad in your bathing costume." Sherlock discloses.  
"So?" Anna inquires.  
"Well, John found a nightshirt and knickers for you. But we decided that given the situation, it'd not be appropriate for him to, erm... dress you for bed."  
"You mean undress, dontcha Sherlock?"  
"Yes. And I freely admit to having removed your swimsuit and getting you ready for bed."  
"Oh shit. _Sherlock?_ "  
John's ears turn a shade of red not previously seen in nature, as he torques his face in profound befuddlement.

"Alrighty. You've seen me nude. I'm not happy about it, but I am curious about something." Anna runs her fingers through her hair, laces her fingers together and leans into her stack of pillows. 

"Curious? About what?" Sherlock raises a brow and crinkles the top of his nose.  
"You must have made an observation or two. So, let's have it. Seeing, observing. Ya know, all that noise. Bring it Wils. I double dog dare you!" Anna shimmies her shoulders and hunkers down, waiting for a torrent of epic deductions, but Sherlock seems somewhat phlegmatically lost in thought. And John sits slack jawed, mouth slightly agape, blinking rapidly. 

"Well, as I've stated on previous occasions, I find your transport fascinating. Being able to observe a live human female was quite interesting. One might suppose a word of thanks would be appropriate for such an opportunity. So, erm... Thank you, Anna. It was indeed a privilege to assist you with your predicament last night." Sherlock begins haltingly, then shifts into his typical rapid fire staccato.  
"This morning, Sherlock. Let's call a thing a thing."  
"The timeframe is somewhat irrelevant, but in the interest of clarity - yes, it was very early in the morning."  
"Jeezus, Sherlock. Who cares what bloody time it was?! " John harrumphs, as he folds his arms in front of him. Absolutely exasperated with the detective and the behaviorist. "Please continue, my good friend, colleague, and _wardrobe assistant ___." Anna snarks.  
"Well, I erm..." Sherlock takes a breath to consider adding further details to fulfill Anna's request.  
He narrows his eyes as he takes in her dispassionate affect. He's intrigued by her nearly clinical detachment and seeming indifference to his musings.

"Your skin is very well cared for. Smooth, very supple. Your complexion is nearly flawless. Overall, you're very toned. And appealingly curvaceous. Especially your uh... thighs and bum. Quite lovely, both. Also, your calves are stunningly sculpted. Most likely due to martial arts, and extensive ballet training." Sherlock smiles uncomfortably. 

"Those observations were well thought out, I'm flattered. But surely you must've had need to turn me over? Perhaps taken a quick peek while you were at it? Let's have it. This is gonna be stunning." Anna chuckles derisively, taking great delight in putting Sherlock on the spot.  
"Yes, I might have, at some point found it necessary to arrange you such that a cursory glance of your medial anterior features were in view. And don't call me Sherly." the detective winks.  
"Anna, do we really need to do this? This is a bit not good." John shakes his head, as he wonders why the behaviorist feels the need to suss out these specific details.  
"John, I'm a behaviorist. A professional observer of sorts. Right now you and Sherlock are providing me with invaluable data about guilt and culpability. And just so you know, you're helping me with my research. I'm wearing riding crop, curry and bourbon scent in a custom blend. Seems to be working quite well on Wils."  
"But why, Anna? Why now?..." John shrugs.  
"For science, JAWN!" Anna steeples her fingers and replies in a perfect imitation of Sherlock's voice. "Do continue, Mr Holmes."  
"I'm bored of this, Andromeda." Sherlock huffs. "Certainly we should be making our way downstairs to breakfast? Won't your guests be wondering where you are?" Sherlock tries to dissuade Anna, but she'll have none of it.  
"My gal pals are a pretty resourceful bunch. They're probably lounging about on the screen porch scarfing down leftovers and chin waggin' about last night. Nice deflection, though. Might've worked on a lesser mortal." 

For quite different reasons, both John and Sherlock are getting a little tetchy, and starting to fidget a bit. Then, Anna has an idea. A terrible, wonderfully naughty idea.

"You two should see the look on your faces. The agita is absolutely exquisite! I'll admit that I'm having a bit of a go at your expense, but I've just this instant decided to cut you some slack." 

The doctor and the detective breathe a collective sigh of relief, and their posture relaxes before Anna's very eyes. She pads across her room, fetches up her tablet, and sets it on a speaker dock. She then scampers into her closet, and returns with a pair of jeans, and a brasserie. She drops the pants next to her on the floor, and swings the brasserie around on her fingers as she waits for her song to cue up.  
She beckons Sherlock and John to sit on the upholstered bench at the end of her bed and smiles mischievously at the two men. The song begins, and she turns her back to them, looks over her shoulder and winks.

♪I'm that flight that you get on, international♪

Anna starts to undulate and swing her hips as she removes her shirt. She flings the shirt at Sherlock, and grins.

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/D9D12C96-01BC-4E5B-990A-F89DFFA7689A_zpsu96mtsc4.jpg.html)

♪First class seat on my lap girl, riding comfortable♪  
♪'Cause I know what the girl them need♪  
♪New York to Haiti♪

She slides the straps of her bra over her shoulders, bends from her waist and wriggles her bum at the befuddled duo, then snaps it closed in the front. She saunters over to John, plants herself in his lap, and grinds her arse into his crotch.  
"Bloody Hell! ANNA!" John grouses.

She then dances over to Sherlock and taps him on the end of his nose. Anna grabs her jeans, steps into them and slowly slides them up her legs while gleefully gyrating. When the pants are at the tops of her thighs, she twerks until the waistband is in place, zips them up and fastens the toggle.  
Next, she wanders back over to Sherlock and pulls him to his feet. She dances around him until he's in front of her, and peels off his dressing gown. Then she raises his arms and removes his t-shirt. Anna puts on the detective's shirt and pushes him back to his seat. Just as the song ends, she covers herself in the dressing gown. She smiles at John, and reaches over to muss his hair before gliding blithely over to her bedroom door and opening it.

"Show's over, fellas. Now... Get. Out." She informs the nonplussed pair in her smokiest mezzo.

The men shrug, and look at each other quite puzzled, but stand up and meander toward the door, somewhat discombobulated. Anna waits for them patiently, and kisses each one on the forehead as they pass.

"One for the wankbank, eh?" She clicks her tongue. "See ya downstairs for breakfast." she winks, then firmly closes the door behind them.

Sherlock and John stare at the closed door for a beat, before turning toward their room, both looking completely disheveled, and a little wrecked. They make their way down the hall, encountering Anna's brother Jay as they amble cluelessly.  
John begins to blush as he raises a finger and drops his bottom lip to speak, but begins to stammer a bit, and has trouble finding the words.

Jay looks them over and laughs out loud at the sight of them. He doesn't know why John looks unkempt, and Sherlock is half dressed, but frankly isn't arsed about it. He knows he'll get the deets from Anna when she's good and damned ready, not before.  
"Jay! Hey there! I erm... Oh boy." John scrubs a hand over his head as he looks sheepishly at Anna's brother. Sherlock closes his eyes, shakes his head and shrugs cluelessly. Jay turns his head, throws his hands up and says -  
"Yo, man. My name is Charles, and this here shit is between Y'all..." And simply continues toward the backstairs, chuckling the entire way.

"I thought his name was Jason?" Sherlock chortles.  
"Shut up, Sherlock. And stay shut up..." John growls, teeth clenched.

Sherlock quirks a half grin, and laughs in his trademark rumbly baritone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More notes later.
> 
> Song for Anna's reverse strip tease:  
> Jason Derulo - "Talk Dirty" feat. 2 Chainz (Official HD Music Video)  
> http://youtu.be/RbtPXFlZlHg
> 
>    
> Hip Check:  
> To physically impact someone at the hip by using the hip. It is a versatile action but can especially be used as a greeting or to show playful aggression or disagreement.  
> (A/N: Most notably used in hockey, but oft deployed socially as described above.)  
> ~Urban Dictionary
> 
> Not Beta'd - editing and revising on the fly.


	20. The Fourth Continent: A John & Anna Vignette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We should start slowly, John." Anna smiles sweetly and John kisses her very chastely.  
> Both begin giggling like like two kids who've just discovered something naughty about the other.  
> They close their eyes and meld into a tender but passionate kiss.
> 
> " _Ohhh_ , I like that. Definitely up for more of that." Anna coos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A “Reading Week” One-shot.

John and Sherlock have made their way down to the kitchen for breakfast. They hear the din of conversation on the adjacent screen porch. Where, as predicted - Anna's friends are lounging about picking at leftovers. 

"Good Morning, lovely ladies!" John beams.

"Doctor Watson, nice to see you too!" Jordan literally purrs, adding a meow for emphasis.  
"So, erm... Where's Anna got herself to?" asks the doctor.

Sherlock mills about aimlessly, before taking a seat at the communal table. He too wonders where Anna's gone, but decides to let John take point on any inquiries.

"She's rustling up some yummables. If she's not puttering around the big kitchen, try the butler's pantry. There's always something good to eat in there. The Eberhardt's love to show off. Ooops! I mean _entertain_ ". Jordan snarks, with a wink.

John heads back toward the kitchen, but checks in with Sherlock first. "Sherlock, d'ya mind if I go looking for Anna?"  
"Nope" answers the detective. Popping the "p" sound, and giving a wink.  
"Okay. You gonna be alright here, mate?"  
"I'm sure to find a little trouble to get into while you're gone. Away with you. I'll be fine..." Says Sherlock, unusually chipper as he shoos John away.  
"Sherlock, you ain't nevah lied!" Lori cackles, and gives Jordan a fist bump.  
"Don't worry, John. We'll look after Sherlock. _Won't we girls?_ " chides Anna's bestie Deanna. The group laughs mischievously, and sends him on his way.  
John ambles away slowly, but stops at the doorway to look over his shoulder. By all accounts, Sherlock is getting on famously with the Gal Pals. So, John trudges on, in search of Anna. He traverses the kitchen and moves into the main hallway.

He strides purposefully for a few steps, then stops in front of a door that's slightly ajar. He hears the whir of a small convection oven, and Anna humming cheerfully as she opens and closes drawers and cupboards. He takes a deep breath, pauses, and hesitantly knocks on the sliding barn door at the entrance of the butler's pantry. 

"Come in... John." Anna chuckles.  
John slides the door open, steps through and slides it closed behind him. He turns to Anna, and furrows his brow. 

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/07D69676-B7CA-4FC1-A8ED-3365C1E681CD_zpsi9vcniau.jpg.html)

"Lock it please." she requests. John spins himself 'round and latches the door, then turns his attentions to Anna once again.

"How'd you know it was me?" he asks, eyes sparking with adoration.

"It wasn't hard to figure out. Most people knock at about shoulder height. The knock was just right for your height."  
"But, I could just as well have been one of your mates. I'm the same height as at least two of them."  
"Ahhh, but they're right handed. And at least one of them would've just thrown the door open and might have had commentary, besides. You used the second knuckle of your second finger and you tapped very tentatively."  
"God, Anna. You're fuckin' amazing! The only other person on the entire planet who'd 'ave picked up on all of that is..."  
"Sherlock?"  
"Yeah. You two are quite something." John smiles at Anna and moves to close the space between them.  
"We're the loves of your life, John." Anna grins.  
"But, I'm not..."  
"Never said your were. But you and Sherlock have a bromance that's undeniable. You two have been through the tortures of the damned. And at the end of the day, you'll always be there for each other. You literally gave him the shirt off your back, so that he'd join you in the pool without exposing his scars. That's not just mates. That was an act of pure devotion." Anna smiles at John, but her eyes mist over a bit as she speaks.

"But he gave you his shirt. Doesn't that mean something?" John quizzes.  
"Not quite the same. I removed his shirt, and he allowed me to have it. He trusted me enough to know I'd not be appalled by his scars. And a little arse wiggling didn't hurt anything, did it?"  
"Your arse is magnificent." John manoeuvres himself so that he's directly behind Anna, and slides an arm around her waist. "That was quite a spectacle you put on. Jeezus, Anna! A strip tease in reverse?! People get dressed every bloody day. But I never thought it could be sexy." He murmurs in her ear. 

Anna leans into John. Then burrows herself into his embrace. He sways her gently and she turns to look directly in his eyes.  
"But you kinda snapped at me. I thought you were annoyed with me."  
"Couldn't you feel me getting stiffer by the second? Your bum was giving me a major stonker. I wanted to throw you on the bed like a caveman and have at you right then. Knowing that you were teasing made me a bit stroppy."  
"Sorry. Just having a little fun. I really wasn't trying to be mean" Anna apologises.  
"I know, darlin'. I know..." John kisses her lightly on her forehead.  
"I have a confession to make, John." Anna cups John's head in her hands and whispers in his ear. "I'd have sent Sherlock away in a heartbeat, but I was scared."  
"Of what, luv?"  
"Of what it means." She pulls back and shrugs. Speaking now in her full voice. "I think I'd rather enjoy your hands on me. Hot, sticky, sweaty. All of it. But what happens after? When the sweat dries, we put our feet back on the floor and go on with our day? What then? I think the idea of you is more appealing than the complications we'd hafta deal with."  
"Pulling no punches, then?" He winks.  
"No Quarter, John. Sharing my heart, mind, and body are not inconsequential."  
"Understood, luv." he nods.

"But I do think I might have just dreamt up a happy medium..." she smiles.  
"Let's have it then."  
"What if we started slowly?"  
"I don't take your meaning." John replies, genuinely puzzled.

"We should run the bases. Starting with first. Of course..." Anna giggles, and kisses John very chastely. He closes his eyes and smiles into her kiss. The two giggle like like two naughty kids who've just discovered something new.  
"Ohhh, I like that. Definitely up for more of that." Anna coos.  
"Me too, Anna. Haven't kissed like that in years. Actually feeling a bit light headed." John chuckles.

"There's so much exploring for us to do. We don't hafta rush things. We can save some for when we get back home." Anna kisses John on the shell of his ear.  
"Anna, do you realize what you've just said?"  
"Sure, we should take it..." John shakes his head and presses a finger to her lips to stop her talking.  
"No. You said _“When we get back home”_. You just called Baker Street home." John sighs heavily. He pulls Anna closer and snuggles her so that she can't see his eyes begin to water.

"Oh God Anna. I never thought you'd ever think of London as home. Don't quite know what to do with that bit."  
"Home is wherever there are people I love, John. I love you. Sherlock, and Mrs Hudson too. You're part of me now. These past few months have been some of the most important in my life. It's not all about my fellowship anymore. Hasn't been for a while."  
"Will you feel the same when you're done?" he wonders aloud.  
"That's not for quite some time. Let's hold hands and cross that bridge when we stroll up to it. How 'bout we stay present, and take things as they come, hmmm?"  
John pulls back and gazes into Anna's eyes. "That works for me."  
Her sweet smile and the tranquil look in her eyes speak volumes. She leans in. And, in her inimitable fashion, has a bit of fun.  
"Eskimo kiss!" Anna purrs, nuzzling John's nose with hers. Then, Anna cradles John's head tenderly, and brushes his cheek with her eyelashes. "Butterfly kiss!"  
John's breathing hitches in his chest and he sighs softly.

"Anna, there are no words for you right now. I haven't felt like this in such a long time. Tell you what though..." He kisses the end of her nose and smiles at her with devilishly sparkling eyes.  
"I think you are the fourth continent."

Anna closes her eyes, turns her head away from John and gasps quietly. He gropes behind her for a napkin from the tray of food she'd been preparing. Once in his grasp, he thoughtfully dries her cheeks, and dabs the corners of her moistening eyes.

They step in and hug each other tightly. Melding into a very poignant kiss. Both gleefully looking forward to further exploration. Expanding the boundaries of John Watson's fourth continent one kiss at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More notes later. Maybe a pic or two. 
> 
> Not Beta'd. or Britpicked. Editing/Revising on the fly.


	21. Mine Is the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Anna share an early morning cuppa. And a little alone time.  
> But not for long...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "Reading Week Adventures" one-shot.

John awakens before Sherlock, who is across their shared room draped over his bed slack jawed and snoring. He furrows his brow, but chuckles to himself, having decided to make his way down to the kitchen for a cuppa, and maybe a bite or two.  
Anna's friend Jordi was right - there's always something good to nibble on in the Eberhardt's kitchen. 

John stretches, yawns, and swings his feet out of bed. He stuffs his feet into his slippers and heads for the en suite. Sharing a Jack-n-Jill bathroom with Anna definitely has its advantages. The totally enclosed throne makes it easy to share. Without the possibility of embarrassing moments, the shared arrangement suits the doctor quite well.  
John decides to sneak a peek at Anna. Hoping she's still asleep, he pads quietly across the bathroom floor and stops at the doorway to her room. She's bloody gorgeous as she sleeps, he muses. Hair tousled, limbs akimbo, barest hint of a smile as she slumbers. He hopes that she's dreaming of him. Maybe he'll ask her later. Maybe not, though. Creeping around might be a bit not good. So, he silently backs away and renews his quest for his first cuppa of the day.

He's looking forward to the day's activities - a visit to the Baltimore Aquarium, maybe a brief bit of sightseeing, and lunch at one of Anna's favorite haunts. Something about mussels. And the bonus is spending time with Anna's niece Marley. She's a bright bubbly little ball of energy, very much a pint sized version of her Aunt. Yep, if John is going to be in the company of Sherlock and two lovely energetic Eberhardt gals, a bit of caffeine will definitely be required to get his motor running.

John is enjoying his visit to Washington. Anna's brother has been a gracious host, and meeting her friends was tremendous fun. But he really wants to see Anna's studio. And her flat. He's not sure what it would reveal, but would welcome the opportunity, if it arrises. Down the backstairs he goes, into the kitchen. When he enters, he notices a newspaper on the bread counter, next to the mug he's been using. There's a sticky note attached, addressed to him:

Hey John!  
Here's the morning paper.  
Feel free to make yourself some tea.  
Basket of tea next to kettle on back counter.  
Bread for toast. And jam.  
You like raspberry, right?  
(A little birdy told me)

Glad to have you as a guest.  
Enjoy your day! Bless... J

A "little birdy", eh? John chuckles as he wonders if that birdy is curvy and leggy and often smells of raspberry jam in his presence. _Wonder if we'll run a base or two today? _He smiles, as he thinks of Anna.__

  
[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20June/EB90DD17-E500-4681-8935-1727E378E7B6_zpsohqkjs1a.jpg.html)

John is glad to have met Anna. Even more he's nearly ecstatic that she and Sherlock get on as well as they do. Maybe this one won't get away from him. He's never had trouble pulling the ladies. It seems that competing with the consulting detective for his time and attention is an unwritten requirement that has sent many of his would be paramours hastily clamouring for the nearest exit.  
Some have stomped off angrily, others have fled Sherlock's deductive laser beam in tears. To be sure - Anna and Sherlock have had their moments, but they've always managed to patch things up, hug it out, and move on.  
John knows bloody well that Sherlock fancies her. (In his way....) But he'll not let that deter him from enjoying her company. He'd march upstairs right now for a few cuddles were it not for their agreement to take things slow.

The kettle boils, John chooses a teabag and sets about preparing his cuppa when a thought occurs to him. He leafs throw the basket, and finds a bag of Anna's favorite. He grabs his mug, the kettle and a few tea bags. Then, fetches up a hunk of bread and one of the tiny pots of jam. He crams the pockets of his dressing gown with everything he needs to have tea in Anna's room and makes for the stairs. Trying his best to be careful and stealthy. 

He enters the bathroom through the hallway door, and heads for Anna's room. He sits on the sofa, nearest the window in her sitting area and lays out his surprise morning treat. He remembers a drawer in the en suite with coffee and tea supplies, and heads in to pluck up a pack or two of sugar for her tea. He pours his cup, and leaves the kettle on the table. Quite pleased with himself, he stretches out on the sofa with the paper. 

Eventually Anna stirs, then opens her eyes. She sweeps the hair from her face and blinks a few times.  
"John?"  
"Mornin' Luv. Fancy a cuppa? Bread and jam, maybe?" He smiles from across the room.  
"Yeah. Thanks. Time izzit, anyway?" she yawns.

John checks the clock on the end table. "Erm... Half six."  
"Are we alone?" She asks, as she raises her head.  
"So far. You coming over, or shall I bring?" he winks.  
"Oh. Definitely coming over." she purrs. 

Anna rolls up on her side as she watches John prepare her mug of tea. _He makes such wonderful tea. ___She smiles to herself as she sits upright. Then Anna gracefully stretches before rising to her feet and moseying toward the sofa. But not before stopping to pull the en suite door to. Leaving it slightly ajar, but not completely open, as had been the custom during the visit.  
Even a querulous consulting detective might be able to deduce from a partially closed door that an intrusion would be unwelcome. 

John slides Anna's mug across the coffee table. She sits in her favorite position, with her feet tucked beneath John's thigh.  
"Mmmm... Thanks Johnny. You make the best tea." she hums. Taking a sip from her favorite mug.  
John's eyes light up, and he asks "What'd you just say?"  
"Thanks, sweetie..."

John sets down his mug and turns to Anna, absolutely smitten.

"No, no. What'd you call me?"  
"Johnny?" she shrugs.  
"Yeah. Say that again. My name...In that deep sexy voice."  
"Johnny..." she purrs lustily.  
"Oh, God. Yes. Again?..." He leans toward her, takes the mug from her hand and places it back on the table.  
"Good morning, _Johnny_."

He caresses her face, and draws her into a kiss that's fierce as it is tender. She returns the kiss playfully, giggling and scrunching her nose.

"John?"  
"Hmm?" He mumbles his reply while nibbling an earlobe.  
"How about we sneak out onto the deck tonight after everybody's gone to bed? Just you, and me and a sky full of stars?"  
"I'd like that, Anna. Very much."  
"So, it's a date, then?"  
"What about Sherlock? He often mills about at odd hours. Even here, he's done that." John sighs, and slumps onto Anna.  
"Ohhh! He's gonna sleep like a freshly bathed baby. I've got a big surprise for him at the aquarium. You'll see..."  
"Care to clue me in?"  
"Nope!"

"Well then. You leave me no choice." He pulls back and stares Anna directly in the eyes, with a very serious look. "I'll just hafta... TICKLE IT OUT OF YOU!" He pulls up her nightshirt, to reveal her tummy and wriggles his fingers. She shrieks and giggles like a schoolgirl. Then, he lips her tummy and blows a zerbert.

She runs her fingers through his hair, and sighs. He looks up at her, sapphire blue eyes darkened with lust. They lock eyes, and in that instant decide to take things further. John pulls Anna beneath him, and stares down at her. She returns his gaze, and smiles at him lustily. She raises a knee, and throws her calf over his bum. He lowers himself, and begins rutting against her. She closes her eyes, and moans softly.

Just then, her bedroom door is flung open, and her niece Marley bounds in, full of energy ready to start the day.

"G'mornin' Auntie! Ohh!... Um, sorry." She turns around and heads for the door.  
"No! Sweetie, come back" Anna calls after her. She and John sit up, and straighten their nightclothes. Then she throws her arms open wide and Marley runs across the room right into them.

"I'm sorry sweetie. I should've put one of my toe shoes on the doorknob. Not your fault. 'Kay?" She kisses her niece on the forehead.  
"Okay. It's not as bad as you think, Auntie. Mommy and Daddy make animal noises sometimes. Do you make animal noises with Doctor Watson?" She asks, rather innocently.  
"No, thus far they've not had the privacy, nor the inclination to go beyond flirting and frottage." Bellows Sherlock, from the other side of the en suite door.

"Sherlock?!" Marley squeals.  
"Yep!" His reply.

Sherlock opens the door, Marley scampers over to him and throws her arms around the tops of his thighs. He reaches down, to tap her nose with his index finger. "BOOP! Gotcha!" He chortles.

Anna and John look at each other in amazement as they process what they've just witnessed. They both silently mouth the word "WOW!" with puzzled looks on their faces.

"Sherlock?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Wanna have some toast with me?" Marley asks.  
"Sounds delightful."  
"Kay. But this time, I'm making it. You burned it last time." She states, very matter of factly.  
"I... I did not!" He quirks his chin and pouts.  
"Unh-huh! It was burnt, Sherlock. It was so _not ___golden brown..."  
"Well... True enough. The color and texture may not have been what one might consider optimally edible." He shrugs.  
"Burnt, Sherlock. B-u-r-n-t."  
"Point taken."  
Marley grabs two of his fingers and pulls him toward the door. Their conversation continues as they pad down the hall to the stairs.  
"Sherlock, howcome Doctor Watson hasn't taught you how to make toast? You eat lotsa toast. Dontcha wanna make yummy pretty toast?" Marley inquires.  
"Well, erm... I can't recall exactly. He may have attempted a tutorial on the basics of edible toasted bread products once or twice. Though some things do taste better when someone else makes them, no?"  
"Yeah. That's kinda true." Marley concurs.  
"It is indeed. I have years empirical experience to bear out my theory." he chuckles.  
"Yeah. I bet you do. Hey Sherlock..."  
"Hmm?"  
"What is froh... frohh..." Asks Marley, struggling with the pronunciation.  
" _Frottage? ___" He simpers.  
"Yeah. That..."  
"Erm... Uh, perhaps that is a question is best left answered by your Aunt?" He replies with an artful deflection.  
"Cool. No bigs. I'mna ask her later, though."  
"I'm certain that's best for all concerned." 

Marley and Sherlock's voices fade as they stroll down the hall. Leaving Anna and John baffled, but amused.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" John chuckles.  
"I dunno. Seems like they've forgotten all about us."  
"Maybe." John pecks Anna on the cheek before standing. "Think I need a shower. A _very cold_ shower."

"Alone?" Anna winks.  
"Probably best. Ya think?" John grins. Before he leaves he leans in to whisper in Anna's ear "Once more, luv. Say it one more time..."  
"Spank bank, eh?" She chortles.

John nods.

Anna looks up at him through her lashes, tilts her head slightly and runs her fingers through her hair.  
"Johnny..." she purrs, in the sexiest mezzo she can muster.

With that, John heads for the en suite with a raised brow, and slightly devilish grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zerbert  
> creating a seal between a human mouth and flesh (commonly the stomach or arm) and then blowing, producing a fart-like sound.  
> Wanna hear a funny noise?  
> fr Urban Dictionary "Best Definition" by Bungalow Bill October 19, 2001
> 
>  
> 
> More notes later as they occur in my thought bubble.  
> As ever - unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.  
> 


	22. Just Like Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock share a conspiratorial wink.  
> "I saw that... What're you up to?" Anna quizzes.
> 
> "Nothing." John smiles and shrugs. Hands behind his back, as he rocks from heel to toe.  
> "Absolutely nothing amiss..." Sherlock chimes in, with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "Reading Week Adventures" one-shot.

Anna, Sherlock and John are congregating in the kitchen teeing up plans for the day. Each well rested, and having had a light breakfast, the trio are looking forward to their outing.  
"So, guys... We ready for our day out?"  
"Are _you ___?" Sherlock winks.  
"Yeah. I think we're gonna have a good time. Thanks for helping me keep Marley busy. Jay and Nan will be back with my nephew from his school trip in a couple of days. Hope you don't mind too much"  
"Not at all Anna." John smiles, and smoothes a hand on her shoulder.  
"Where has she gotten to?" Anna wonders aloud. 

Sherlock and John share a conspiratorial wink. "Saw that. What're you up to?" Anna quizzes.  
"Nothing." Says John, as he smiles and shakes his head. Hands behind his back, rocking from heel to toe.  
"Absolutely nothing amiss..." Sherlock chimes in, with a smirk.

Anna cants her head and narrows her eyes suspiciously at the doctor and the detective, then walks over to the household intercom to find Marley. She taps the touchpad, but before she can lean in to speak - Marley comes screeching down the stairs into the kitchen. 

"Aunteeee!" Marley squeals as she runs toward Anna, dressed in a child sized replica of Sherlock's coat. "Lookit what I got!"  
Marley hugs Anna tightly. She squeezes Anna with all her might, bouncing happily and giggling gleefully. Anna's eyes widen with surprise as she joins in her niece's laughter. 

She looks to Sherlock and John, smiling broadly at both men. Both taking in the youngster's reaction with great pride. 

Anna stoops down to speak calmly to her excited charge. 

"Marley Mae, what do we do when someone does something thoughtful?"  
"Express our happy attitude by showing them our gratitude." she giggles.  
"How do we do that?"  
"Say thank you." she mumbles, into Anna's shoulder.  
"Have you thanked Sherlock and Doctor Watson?"  
"No." She shakes her head. Marley spins on her heel and launches herself at Sherlock. John crosses the room to pull Anna to her feet, and stand by her side as her niece hugs the detective.

"Thank-you Sherlock! Thank you..." Marley's voice muffled by the detective's own coat as she embraces him.  
He looks down at her, quirks his chin, and wrinkles his nose a bit. A slight smile forming at the corners of his mouth.  
"Well, erm Marley... I seem to recall chatting to you, and you mentioning how much you liked my coat. Now you have one of your very own."  
"You're so cool. Omigosh! This is the best day ever! Are we still going to the aquarium, Auntie? Can I wear my new coat? When are we leaving? Will you sit next to me, Sherlock?" Marley prattles a litany of questions in rapid fire succession. 

"Hey there Marley?" John interrupts. "Aren't we forgetting something?" John looks at Sherlock and winks. Sherlock bends to flip up Marley's collar and spins her in John's direction. John reaches into a jacket pocket and removes a cobalt blue scarf. Just like Sherlock's, only a bit shorter. Then walks over to her, folds it in half and fashions it around her neck. 

"Whaddaya think about that, Miss Marley?" asks John, with a gleam in his eye.  
"Don't know." she shrugs. "But I think... I LOVE IT!" she squeals.

Anna crosses over to Sherlock and whispers "Thanks, Wils." Then pecks him on the shell of his ear. She wipes off her lipstick with the pad of her thumb, and he flashes his trademark left sided grin. 

John looks over his shoulder and smiles brightly at Anna. She reaches for his hand and he takes it. Placing a light kiss on her wrist. 

"Marley Mae..." Anna scolds.  
"Thank-you Doctor Watson. So much." She spins 'round and stops, nuzzling the scarf with her cheek. 

"Well, then. Let's get going, guys. It's still rush hour, so traffic is gonna suck." Anna fishes around in her pocket for her car keys, and makes for the front door with John following close behind. Marley grabs two of Sherlock's fingers and pulls him in the same direction.  
"C'mon Sherlock. You're gonna sit by me." Marley chirps.  
"Wouldn't have it any other way." he chortles.

John catches up to Anna, and tugs on her sleeve. Then silently motions to let Sherlock and Marley pass as he pulls her aside. 

"Did I forget something?" she wonders.  
"I'd say so." John says with an impish grin and sparkly eyes.  
"And you're gonna tell me what that is, right?"  
"No. Rather show you..." John pulls Anna close to him and wraps his arms around her. Then places a blistering kiss on her lips which Anna returns with equal zeal.  
"Thanks for the reminder. Love the scruffy guy thing you've got going on today." She brushes the backs of her fingers over the stubble on his cheek and smiles. "We'd better get going before they come looking for us. Poor Sherlock! Betcha Marley is talking his ear off" Anna chuckles.  
"Finally... Someone who can outlast him in a conversation. Who'd ever have thought It'd be a chatty, precocious, little girl. Your niece is quite something. Smart, lovely girl, that one."  
"Thanks." She smiles, contentedly.

The doctors head for the front door once again, happy to begin their day of sightseeing and adventure.

Anna sets the alarm, and locks the door behind her. Just as John and Anna make their way over to Marley and Sherlock, Anna's phone rings. John whistles as he reaches out to tap her Bluetooth earpiece for her while she fumbles for her phone. She stops her search when she hears the familiar text alert tone.The dreaded hook to “Ice-Ice Baby” fills her ear.

"Dammit." she huffs. Sherlock's phone trills simultaneously. 

Good morning.  
Enjoy the aquarium.  
MH

In unison she and Sherlock both drone "Mycroft." But unlike Anna, Sherlock is not treated to an actual follow-up phone call. She sighs, but reluctantly answers.

"Good morning, Doctor Eberhardt. Having gotten wind of your little surprise for my brother, I must advise you that I'm four square against you presenting him with such an opportunity."  
"Know what? Your approval is neither required nor desired, Mycroft. Sherlock had no clue about my surprise, and if you screw this up for me, I'll give as good as I get."  
"Meaning _what _, exactly... Doctor Eberhardt?"__  
"Cake, Mycroft. Hummingbird cake. Thwart my plans if you dare, and you will never get another Hummingbird Cake, or any other baked thing from me. _EVER_. No more gluten free, no sugar added sweets for you." Anna firmly states.  


[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20June/8210BA5D-BF24-4304-BC88-B9335E0834E1_zpsp1m5maon.jpg.html)

  
"Whatever do mean to imply?" Mycroft sniffs.  
"If you decide to interfere, our clandestine arrangement to satisfy your appetite for appropriately prepared desserts for your 'Five' days is over. Full stop. You do recall how much trouble you've had in the past finding unique treats that meet your exacting standards. Do. You. Not? Down to you, Mycroft. I'll be on the road for the next forty-five minutes. Hope to hear your decision by then. Ta..."

Anna reaches for her earpiece, but John turns it off for her, and fluffs a few strands of her hair to cover it. He narrows his eyes, and licks his lips. "You just roughed up Mycroft fucking Holmes! Over puddings?!" he laughs and shakes his head.  
"Woman, you are doin' my head in. That... was amazing."  
"Well done, you." Sherlock bellows. "So what's this about a surprise, then?" Sherlock asks as he sidles up to her.

"Surely you don't think I'd divulge your surprise for a wink and a sly grin, didja Wils?" she winks.

"Well, no... And don't call me Sherly." He quirks a brow, and chortles in his trademark baritone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Notes later.
> 
> Hummingbird cake:  
> Hummingbird cake is a banana pineapple spice cake common in the Southern United States. Ingredients include flour, sugar, salt, ripe banana, pineapple, cinnamon, pecans, vanilla extract, eggs, and leavening agent. source - Wikipedia
> 
> Not beta'd. Editing/Revising on the fly.


	23. Fanatically Yours: A John & Anna Vignette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Anna find themselves in the garage, in the back of Anna's car. Basking in the afterglow of their first make out session.  
> John lies on his back, jumper and vest rucked up. Jeans unzipped, exposing his red pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: In celebration of 500 members in the Facebook group, Fanfiction Fanatics... 500 words including the word “fanatic.”
> 
> A "Reading Week Adventures" one-shot.
> 
> ✨ **NSFW ******✨ But, don't let that stop you!

"Bloody Hell, woman! What did you just do to me?" John laughs.  
"I _didn't_ do it. All I did was help you out a bit." Anna coos, as she nibbles an earlobe. 

"But, erm... I didn't, you know... "  
"Nope." she says, popping her lips for emphasis.  
"How?" he wonders aloud. "By just squeezing those muscles, then? Is there a name for that?"  
"You've just experienced your first Tantric orgasm, John."  
"It felt the same. Only a little more intense, I s'pose." he raises himself onto his elbows and smiles lustily.  
"Mmm-hmm." She returns his smile as she straddles him, then leans down for a kiss.  
"So, I can go again?" he asks, as Anna traces the shell of his ear with the tip of her tongue.  
"As many times as you'd like, John" 

John licks his lips, then asks "Are you some kind of Tantric Sex Expert?"  
"No, sweetie. Just a humble fanatic. An _enthusiast_ , if you will."

Anna reaches between them and begins stroking him through his pants. She cups and rolls his bollocks. John lolls his head back and moans. Anna rolls off so that she can have a better angle, with a complete range of motion.

"How's that feel?" she murmurs seductively.

Though he doesn't answer with words, he closes his hand around hers, and squeezes gently. Urging her to slow down and use firmer strokes.

" _Slower_?"  
"Y-yesss, please..." he sibilates.

John is awash in sensation. Anna's tantalizingly slow caresses, her soft sexy voice, and the light scent of raspberry jam, all conspiring to send him into sensory overload.

Anna drapes herself across John's torso and nuzzles his neck as she continues her naughty ministrations. And he doesn't seem to mind at all. John reaches under Anna's shirt. His fingers leisurely meandering as they find their way to her bosom to unhook her bra.  
He works the clasp skillfully. Allowing her breasts to tumble free of their silken confinement into his waiting hands.  
He ghosts a thumb over one of her nipples until it becomes firm. Coaxing it to stand at attention like a good little soldier. She hums her approval, as she continues her own explorations.

"Ohhh, yeah... Just kinda... Little squeeze, there. Oh!-oh!-oh! Bloody feckin ‘ell!" John mutters, through clenched teeth.  
"Good, hmmm?"  
"God, yes." 

John threads his fingers through Anna's hair and draws her into an intensely passionate kiss. She returns the kiss, but pulls back, nearly out of breath. 

"John!" she gasps. "We'd better crack a window or we'll melt!"

He chuckles his reply "I'd love to melt with you, Anna."  
"We could stop the world." she sighs.

John reaches up, and draws a heart on the window. Then writes their names on either side.

_"I heart you too, John Watson."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes later?...  
> Check out this video on YouTube:  
> Modern English - I Melt With You (Official Video)  
> http://youtu.be/LuN6gs0AJls
> 
>  
> 
> Raspberry Jam scent? It's a thing:  
> 
> 
>   
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20July/6DF5AEFB-5854-411F-9BE7-AE114ED1DDA8_zpsjcquanza.jpg.html)  
> www.demeterfragrance.com/704255/products/Raspberry-Jam.html 
> 
> Not beta'd.


	24. Wakey! Wakey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock marches down to 221C in the middle of the night, on a mission. He rouses Anna from a peaceful sleep with petulant demands. 
> 
>    
> Will she send him away to sulk, or enable his shenanigans?

Sherlock stormed down the stairs and into 221C in the middle of the night. He was on a tear as he flung open the door to Anna's flat. Sherlock made for her bedroom full of purpose. He stood in her doorway, his lithe frame silhouetted in the half light as he rapped impatiently on her door jamb. His mind was racing and he could barely stand still. 

"Anna..." He rumbled, in his lower register.  
"Jeezus, Sherlock. What are you on about?" She blinked. "It's half two in the morning. What's so damn important that it couldn't wait three or four more hours?" She mumbled into her pillow.  
"I need some. Get me some." He implored.

"Need _what _, Wils...?"__  
"Head. I need it..."

Anna sat up, rubbed her bleary eyes and raked her fingers through her hair. Sherlock padded over to her bed and plopped down next to her. 

"You promised me. I need that head. I need it right now. I've already started, Anna. AND I CANNOT FINISH UNTIL I HAVE IT!!" Sherlock roared, through clenched teeth. " _Please _." he pouted.  
"Go fetch your jacket, and I'll meet you at the front door in ten minutes." She sighed. "But I'm wearing your coat, though. I'll be damned if I'm getting properly kitted out for this."__

Sherlock grabbed Anna, dragged her toward him and pulled her nearly limp body into a hug. "Thank you, Anna." He kissed her forehead. "You won't regret this, I promise."  
"Somehow, I already do." she snarked.

Sherlock pulled back to look directly into Anna's eyes and smiled lightly. "Thank you..."  
"Yeah-yeah-yeah." Anna huffed. "Get outta my room before I change my mind. John isn't gonna be too happy with either of us, you know."  
"In the broader sense - it's for science, Anna. I think he'd understand that you're helping me, while ostensibly keeping an eye on me."  
"Here's hoping..." she muttered under her breath. 

Sherlock leapt to his feet and scurried toward Anna's bedroom door, then turned on his heel, ran back and hugged her again.  
"Okay, Wils" she mumbled into his midriff. "Consider me sufficiently thanked. Now... Unless you want me to flash you, I suggest you find your way toward the stairs, Buster." 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and crinkled the top of his nose in response to Anna's bid to shoo him away for a few moments of privacy. 

Anna swung her legs out of bed and lifted herself to her feet. She yawned, then stretched as she moseyed over to her en suite.  
"Off you go..." She flapped her wrist to wave him away.

Undeterred, he draped himself on the edge of her bed, propped himself up on an elbow and crossed his ankles.  
"Oh come now, Anna. It's nothing I haven't already seen before in great detail. Don't be... _shy _." He bellowed in his lower register.__

"Fine. Down to you, Wils." Anna riffled through a bureau drawer before disappearing behind her en suite door. She emerged minutes later, having completed her ablutions and fully dressed in her fave compression shorts with its matching top, feet clad in boot socks. Anna plucked up her DMs and sauntered casually into her living room with Sherlock following close behind. She stuffed her feet into the boots and tied them haphazardly while Sherlock paced back and forth. When she finished, she stood staring quizzically at her Detective for a moment, then started for the door to 221C. 

"C'mon then..." She nodded toward the door. 

Sherlock jogged up the stairs excitedly, taking them two at a time. He shot past her in a blur, rounded the banister and zoomed up to the sitting room to fetch up a jacket, and his coat for Anna.

 

Anna yawned as she stood patiently waiting for Sherlock at the foot of the stairs, when the front door opened. It was John, returning home from Bart's after looking in on a patient in crisis. He looked knackered, but seemed relieved to be home. The sight of Anna in her compression gear elicited a low growl and an appreciative grin. 

"Off out, Luv? Krav Maga before dawn?" John chuckled.  
"No, Smithfield Market. I promised Sherlock that I'd trudge along to help him buy a pigs head and trotters. Since the best pickins are had before daybreak, I'm venturing out at quarter past three in the morning in search of piggy parts." Anna shrugged and sighed.

"How offal..." John chortled, before closing the space between them and lightly pecking Anna on the cheek.  
"Oh. My. God. Did you really go _there _?"__  
"I did, yes..." he smiled. "Sherlock has been on something of a tear ever since he discovered your Nanna's book of heirloom recipes. And now we have a battle royale brewing between the Holmes brothers to create the perfect Thanksgiving dinner for you, Luv."  
"Yeah, that's a bit trippy. Still trying to wrap my brain around that. I mean... It's just another Thursday in November to you lot."  
"Ordinarily it would be, Anna. But we've put our heads together to show you how thankful we are to have you around." John drew her into a hug as he continued. "Sherlock and I know how much you'll be missing your family, and both want you to know how special you are to us."

John pressed his hip into Anna and pinned her against the wall. She closed her eyes and moaned, but before she could enjoy the moment, Sherlock came bounding down the staircase. He acknowledged John's presence with a curt nod.  
"Jawn..."  
"We're looking a bit rough this morning, aren't we...? _Shezza _."__

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20November/5A8628CD-89D8-4CD2-987A-8ECE2E44BA97_zpsi68oquvo.jpg.html)

Sherlock paused just long enough to ruffle his hair at John and curl his lip in disapproval. He then unfurled his Belstaff, and shook it in Anna's direction. He held it by the shoulders for her as she stepped into the prized garment. She shrugged it on and flipped the collar, as Sherlock smoothed the shoulders. He canted his head to admire his handiwork and smiled.  
He grabbed Anna by the hand as he led her through the vestibule and onto the sidewalk where a cab was idling at the kerb. John followed closely as his tired legs would allow. Sherlock opened the cab door, nudged Anna inside and waved behind him.

"Layt-uhs!" The irascible man bellered as he slid onto the seat next to Anna and closed the door behind him, barely seconds before the cab lurched forward and sped away. 

"Yeah, layt-uhs to you too..." John muttered.  
He scrubbed a hand over his head and yawned. He shrugged as he lumbered back inside. After locking the doors, he was jarred by the persistent vibration in his front pocket.  
John lolled his head back and grumbled, thinking it was the duty nurse at Bart's calling him back to the ward.  
"Oh bother..." he sighed. He was pleased to find the message was from Anna:

G'mornin  
Get comfy  
CU l8trs ƸӜƷ

How comfy? JW

My duvet...  
And a warm smile  
;->

UR a bad bad woman  
Doctor Eberhardt  
JW

Not really -  
Just drawn that way  
ƸӜƷ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot Bunnies scurrying around for a Thanksgiving one-shot. Mycroft hosting a Turkey Day dinner? Sherlock armed with a head full of Eberhardt heirloom recipes?
> 
> What could *possibly* go wrong? };-) 
> 
>  What is Sherlock on about?:  
> headcheese -  
> noun (US & Canadian) a seasoned jellied loaf made from the head and sometimes the feet of a pig or calf Also called brawn (in Britain and certain other countries)  
> Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20November/880B83A5-1AAC-446D-96FA-F6F8E4B22954_zpsgd0iett6.jpg.html)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> IRL? - I won't touch the stuff. :-P  
> But... In my headcanon Sherlock is learning to cook and, this seems like something that would appeal to him.  
> Boiling offal to extract the collagen, remove the meat from the bones, chop it into bits, then stir it back into the gloppy aspic sounds very Sherlock to me.  
>  
> 
> Not Beta'd or Brit picked. More notes " _layt-uhs _"...__


	27. Boxing Day Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John & Anna always reserve Saturday mornings for a nice snuggly lie-in.
> 
> But this is Boxing Day, and John has a surprise for his ladylove.

Anna's sleep/wake cycle has been thrown off by holiday celebrations, and having had several days off in a row.  
Late night streaming binges with Sherlock hasn't help matters - though he seemed quite impressed by the baddie in that Star Trek flick. Knew all the lines by heart, even. Go figure...

Rather than lie awake in the predawn darkness in utter frustration, Anna decided to take a different tack.  
She sat up, scrubbed the sleep from her eyes with the heels of her hands, and padded groggily toward her en suite.  
After a few cursory ablutions, she put on her work out togs and trainers. She pulled her hair back, stuffed on a cap, and made for the door; taking care to grab her reflective vest on her way out. 

Once up the stairs, she strode purposefully toward the front door. She closed the vestibule door behind her, and stopped to stretch before setting out.  
Interestingly, John was also wide awake. He'd been in the sitting room for hours, catching up on his blogging.  
When he heard the front door close, he walked over to a window and smiled as he watched Anna take off for her run.  
The sight of her turned him on tremendously. Ponytail bobbing in the breeze; her long, fluid gazelle like strides and beautiful heart shaped bottom in motion were quite something to behold. 

John shuffled back to his desk, and flopped down into his chair. He was determined to update the blog and answer all of his email before the weekend was over, but was distracted by thoughts of Anna.  
Just when he'd hunkered down, and began making significant progress, Sherlock appeared. 

Sherlock moseyed into view haphazardly swaddled in his top sheet, looking a bit disheveled. He stopped in the kitchen to pour himself a cuppa, and wandered over to the sitting room.  
He mumbled half intelligible greetings, and scratched his nethers as he neared his blogger and best mate. Sherlock loomed over his best mate, slurping loudly as he watched John struggle with his ennui.

"Jawn..." Sherlock rumbled as he inched closer.

John felt somewhat encroached upon, but was determined to finish this blogging session successfully. 

Before he knew it Sherlock was literally breathing down his neck. 

"Good morning, Sherlock. Didja find everything okay?" John asked while typing busily.  
"Mmm..." Sherlock nodded his reply. 

John was beginning to feel a bit crowded, and glanced up at Sherlock. 

"Sherlock, are you wearin' any pants, mate?"  
"Nope." he blithely replied. Popping the "P" sound.  
"Jeezus, Sherlock." John shook his head. "Don't stand so close to me. Please..."  
"WOT? We're all adults here, Jawn. Besides, it's Saturday" he shrugged. "Isn't today your regularly scheduled weekly shag-athon with Anna?"  
"Why aren't you downstairs groping and snogging, or whatever it is you do? Had a domestic, maybe?" Sherlock quirked a brow, and sipped his tea.

"No. We haven't had a bloody domestic, you arse." John huffed.  
"Then why are you here blogging, instead of lazing about with Anna, Jawn? Not only is it Saturday, it's Boxing Day. In case you'd forgotten." 

John furrowed his brow and sighed. Then, began logging off and powering down his laptop. He stood up, turned toward Sherlock and grabbed him by the shoulders. 

"Thank you, Sherlock." John smiled. "You and your bed sheet have just given me a brilliant idea!"  
"Glad to be of service, Jawn." Sherlock raised a snarky brow over his mug and sipped. Finding his mug empty, he ruffled his hair and turned toward the kitchen, when he stopped to add an admonishment: "Don't " _sleep in _" all day. We're taking Mrs Hudson to the cinema and an early supper."__

"Too right, mate. Ta!" John chuckled. 

John gave Sherlock's shoulders a squeeze, spun on his heel and scampered off for 221c. He bounded down the stairs to Anna's flat, and made a beeline for the bedroom. John looked at his watch and winced. He knew that he had precious little time to put his plan into motion.  
He started by fetching up a gift box that he'd left in the bottom of Anna's wardrobe, then toed off his shoes, followed by hurriedly stripping off his clothes.  
After he made quick use of her en suite to freshen up, he glanced at himself in the mirror and grinned devilishly, fully aware of the power of his Three Continents charm. But John no longer had need for such pretense because his heart belongs to Anna. After all, anyone who could survive in close quarters with Sherlock was definitely a force to be reckoned with. 

Once he'd finished preening John began to set the scene for his weekly rendezvous with Anna. He fluffed and arranged Anna's bed pillows, grabbed his gift box, and stretched out on the bed. He laced his fingers together, and placed them behind his head while gleefully awaiting his ladylove's return. 

It was just past daybreak when Anna arrived back at the door to her flat, finding it slightly ajar. Not that it concerned her terribly much, but she'd remembered locking it behind her as she left. She shrugged and strolled happily down the stairs.  
Her early morning run had done her a world of good, and she felt like a new woman. Her first thought was to take a quick shower and get a small bit of kip before she and John shared breakfast and some well earned alone time. Since they'd all be treating Mrs Hudson to an evening out later, she wants to make the most of her alone time with John. But she looked forward to their group outing that evening. Sherlock had suggested the latest installment of Star Wars, and the doctors concurred.  
Anna smiled and shook her head as she thought of Sherlock. He could be delightfully sublime, or interminably frustrating, but he was always brilliant and never, ever bored her. 

Almost as soon as she entered her flat, Anna began peeling off her compression gear. By the time she reached her bedroom door she was already half undressed, carrying her trainers and an armful of clothes.  
When she walked into her bedroom, she found John waiting for her. He'd propped himself up on his elbows, and crossed his ankles.  
More interesting than the fact that he was nude, was the gift box strategically perched over his bits and bobs. 

"Johnny? Is that for me?" Anna giggled as she gestured toward the box.  
"God, yes..." He winked.  
"How thoughtful of you to bring me a present wrapped in Watson tartan paper. But, Christmas was yesterday. What's the occasion?"  
"It's Boxing Day, Luv. And I wanted to get you something special." 

Anna walked over to her bed, sat down and tucked a leg beneath her. 

"May I?" she asked.  
"Please do." 

Anna lifted the lid from the box, and peeked inside. She closed her eyes, lowered her chin coquettishly and began to blush a bit. But when she looked up at John, her eyes were darkened with lust. 

[](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20December/45911D81-3C06-4CB1-AC32-3F21A2147873_zpsdualkt50.jpg.html)

 

"For me? You shouldn't have..." she grinned.  
"Would you like to give it a go? See if it fits? If you don't like it, I can get you something more to your liking." he teased.

Anna lifted the box, to find John fully tumescent with a glistening bellend. He licked his lips and smiled lewdly as he crawled over to her, and began kissing her as he removed her bra. Then he leaned her back, gently coaxing her down to the bed.  
John cradled her head sweetly and smiled. They kissed deeply and passionately. John broke the kiss, budged up next to Anna and slowly kissed her from the top of her head down to her toes. She lifted her hips to entice him to remove her knickers, but he chuckled and shook his head.  
His fingertips wandered over every inch of her, then he turned her over onto her tummy to begin anew. John strummed her curves like a finely tuned instrument, taking in every nuance of her smooth Nutella coloured skin. He lifted her hair away from her neck to leave soft light kisses. Anna hummed with delight, and her toes curled.

John and Anna made love for what seemed hours. Giggling, tumbling and exploring until they were sticky, breathless and completely debauched.  
John always enjoyed their stolen Saturday mornings, it allowed him to experience Anna's entire being in a way that they could not during the rest of the week. John would never turn down a chance to snog, or to sweep Anna into his arms for a hug; but Saturday morning was different. Even Sherlock begrudgingly respected their alone time. As long as they both spent time with him later, of course...  
Anna appreciated the freedom to let herself go. She took great delight in giving John's passion and intense physicality wings to fly.  
But even more, they enjoyed the quiet moments after their climactic free fall when they collapsed into each other's arms, exhausted but completely sated.

Today was no different. John circled his arms around Anna as she draped herself across him, tangled seductively in her sheets with sex hair.  
John chuckled as he ran his fingers through her hair and swept aside a few strands to reveal the sweetest smile of the entire week. Though she had little energy left, she kissed his chest and nipped him playfully. 

"I swear, you do my head in Anna."  
"Yeah?"  
"God, yes. The giggles and sighs alone drive me crazy" he sighed.  
"You're no slouch yourself, baby. That thing... the thing with the tip of your tongue?"  
"Well, spelling your name in morse code seemed like a fun thing to try, Luv. Never quite counted on the result, though."  
"It doesn't always happen, so I was just as surprised as you were. But when it does, it's just this sudden rush of intense, mind blowing energy. Didn't mean to splash you like that, baby."  
"Actually, it was amazing to watch you come undone."

John knows damned well he's a wonderful lover. Mostly because pleasuring his partner is as important to him as being in the moment, and allowing himself to relax and receive. One of many reasons he takes particular delight in being intimate with Anna. She's tender as she is fierce. And almost preternaturally flexible, to boot.  
John scrubbed a hand over his head and laughed out loud while proudly recalling some of the morning's bawdier ministrations.  
While John is lost in thought, Anna's hand is wandering lazily down his torso. When she begins to graze the wispy hairs of his thigh, she giggles lustily at the results of her handiwork.

"Anna? Ohhh, nooo! No-no-no! I'm totally spent, Luv. I can't possibly..." John chortled.  
"Awww, c'mon sweetie. You've got a few pence left, dontcha? 

John kissed Anna on top of her head, and drew her into a hug. She burrowed into him and sighed.

"We should probably get some rest, sweetie. Movie night..."  
"Believe me, I'd not forgotten. Sherlock won't let me. Fuck's sake, Luv! That bloody light saber! What were you thinking!" John shook his head. "Did you know he's actually trying to figure out how to equip the hilt with working lasers?"  
"No, I didn't know that." Anna covered her face with the sheet to smother her giggles. "In all fairness, I gave one to each of you."  
"Aye, Luv. That's the rub." 

John and Anna chuckle lightly, as he begins imitating the sound effect of a light saber. 

"If he challenges me to one more bleedin' battle... There's gonna be a punch-up in the sitting room, Anna. He's barely had the damned thing for twenty four hours, and he's already driving me mental."  
"Could be worse, John."  
"Meaning what, exactly?"  
"At least he's never given you a life size silicone replica, complete with a knob that has a foreskin that retracts."  
"Oi!" John squeezed Anna. "How do you know that it retracts? Have you been...?"  
"No sweetie, I have not availed myself of the opportunity to put his bizarre bit of lagniappe to use." She purred, trying to reassure her beau. "But I did sneak into his room last week to have a look while both of you were at The Met tying up a case."  
"Why, Anna?"  
"Curiosity, JAWN!!" she snickered.  
"But, erm... How curious were you?"  
"I stared at it for quite some time, I touched it to see what a silicone foreskin feels like, shook my head, and walked away. End of."  
"Fair enough, Luv."

John smoothed a hand over Anna's shoulder and kissed her forehead. Quiet filled Anna's room and the doctors drifted off peacefully entwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mischievously inspired after watching a video from SNL, and evil little plot bunnies started hopping around. 
> 
> Check out this video -  
> The Lonely Island: Dick in a Box  
> http://youtu.be/ABrSYqiqvzc
> 
> Are You Making Love or Just Having Sex? | Psychology Today  
> https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/what-would-aristotle-do/201305/are-you-making-love-or-just-having-sex
> 
> What Is Boxing Day? | Mental Floss  
> http://mentalfloss.com/article/32030/what-boxing-day
> 
>  
> 
> "Doppelgänger: A Sherlock & Anna Vignette"  
> In which Sherlock gifts Anna a life size silicone replica of his torso:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/5018329
> 
>  
> 
> Not Beta'd or BritPicked. After several read throughs, editing/revising will be done on the fly.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of One Shots featuring the residents of 221 Baker Street, with the addtion of an Original Character from another work (Dance Me Into Love). Haven't decided if I'll ship her with anyone. Mainly just want to enjoy flexing my creative muscles in a new fandom, and post good stories.  
> Thoughtful feedback is always welcomed and appreciated. 
> 
> By-the-by:
> 
>   
>  [ ](http://s1375.photobucket.com/user/Miz_UndahStood/media/2015%20-%20April/4A7892F8-58EA-40AE-8EEE-692033078C45_zps3qrfmslu.jpg.html)
> 
> ƸӜƷ
> 
>  
> 
>  


End file.
